


Two Lonely Travellers

by Chichirinoda



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: Having been hired for a routine mission, Hanzo allowed himself to be briefly distracted by an attractive man who picked him up at the hotel bar, unaware that the man was Jesse McCree - an Overwatch agent assigned to protect the very man that Hanzo was after.On opposite sides, and with betrayal all around them, will Hanzo carry out his mission, or abandon his reputation as a ruthless mercenary?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to GuoBia who made the beautiful artwork for this story!

"What's a handsome guy like you doin' in a place like this?"

At hearing the cliche'd line, Hanzo hesitated with his cup of sake - poured from a dusty bottle located by the bartender after a brief search and unearthed from the back corner of the bottom shelf - a few inches from his lips.

He wasn't surprised, precisely, to hear the line spoken. He'd chosen the hotel and the bar attached to it because it was busy enough with tourists and business people that Hanzo could count on anonymity. In such an environment, illicit liaisons were common, and all around him were men and women engaged in flirtation - or more.

He was just surprised to hear it directed at himself. Hanzo had carefully cultivated a zone of 'leave me alone' around him for years, and normally it worked quite well.

With a heavy sigh, he set the cup of terrible, lukewarm sake down in front of him on the polished bar and turned to face the speaker. From the approach and the accent, Hanzo expected some slovenly frat boy, perhaps egged on by a group of equally-drunk young American boys on an exotic European holiday. Possibly having lost a bet.

The man didn't appear to have any such companions, though he did have a lop-sided cast to his smile that spoke of recent fortification with liquor. He was also no school-aged young man, but an adult not too many years younger than Hanzo. The slightly paler skin around his clean-shaven chin suggested that he usually wore more scruff there. He wore a suit, but uncomfortably, his stance more suited to casual wear - and perhaps accustomed to a belt, as he had his thumb hooked in the waistband of his slacks. He had at some point loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and some untamed curls peeked through the 'V' of his open collar. 

To Hanzo's surprise, he also observed that the man's left arm was a prosthetic, the metal hand protruding incongruously from the cuff of his sleeve.

All in all, despite the formal wear, the man looked like he would be more comfortable sitting on the back of a horse in some dusty desert than leaning against a bar in Monaco while a rainstorm raged outside, yet Hanzo saw few specific traits that gave him that impression, other than his wide-legged stance and the Southwest American accent.

The mess of contradictions and surprises leaned his metal elbow on the bar and grinned at Hanzo in an undeniably charming way.

As Hanzo drew a breath to tell him to go away, he inhaled an interesting mix of scents - leather and aftershave, and the tang of cigar smoke, along with a distinctively masculine scent that made Hanzo's stomach curl and his cock stir with interest.

Hanzo's tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth, and he found himself staring up at the man, his heart beating and his cock stiffening in his pants, as nervous as a schoolboy. The man was smiling at him, but as the silence drew out the smile began to falter, and he straightened up, reaching back a hand to scrub fingers through his unruly locks of brown hair.

"Ah, did I come on too strong? I just looked over at you and thought, well, you seemed rather lonely, and I reckoned I'd just come over and say howdy."

_Howdy._ The word careened through Hanzo's brain like a pachinko token. _He actually just said howdy._

Somehow, Hanzo managed to swallow, and to unstick his tongue. "Sit down," he managed, and instantly winced. It sounded like a command, rather than an invitation, and the young American's eyes widened with surprise.

"All right," the other man said slowly, though he appeared to regret opening this conversation in the first place. After a short hesitation, he slid onto the bar stool next to Hanzo, by which time Hanzo had recovered some small fraction of his wits and dignity.

"I am sorry," Hanzo said, and punctuated that with a short, seated bow. "I have been rude. You startled me."

The man grinned again, apparently with relief, and shook his head. "Well then I'm the one who should be sayin' sorry. I didn't mean to scare ya." He paused, and his eyebrows quirked flirtatiously. "You here to meet someone?"

"No," Hanzo said, then he paused. His reasons for coming to France were not something he was willing to disclose to anyone, let alone a charming stranger, and he wracked his brain for a believable cover story. "I was supposed to come here with a business associate, but he became ill at the last moment. I didn't want to waste the tickets, so I am vacationing alone," he said. That was believable, right? Hanzo was dressed in a suit and well turned out. Anyone would believe that he worked for some corporation, and people vacationed with their coworkers sometimes, right?

The man blinked at him slowly, and Hanzo had the sinking feeling he didn't believe him. But instead of pressing him on it, he just stuck out his hand to shake and grinned. "I'm Jesse," he said. "And I just like travelling by my lonesome. You meet a lot more interesting people that way, wouldn't you say?" He looked him up and down, in a slow pan that brought heat rushing to Hanzo's cheeks - and down into his groin. "And you seem plenty interesting."

Hanzo gripped Jesse's hand. It was warm and callused, and the feeling of their fingers touching sent an electric shock through Hanzo that seemed to stimulate his groin even more.

"Do you want to come up to my hotel room?" Hanzo blurted out, and he instantly cursed himself for a fool. There was nothing incriminating in the room, unless Jesse went through his bags or closet and found Stormbow and the specialized arrows, but that wasn't the reason that his impulsive words had him blushing.

He simply had no idea what he was doing. If Jesse took him up on the invitation, when they reached his hotel room, Hanzo was going to completely humiliate himself.

Before he could take back his words, Jesse reached out and put his flesh hand on Hanzo's forearm. The hand slid down Hanzo's arm until he gripped Hanzo's wrist loosely, leaving tingles in his wake. He couldn't know that underneath his palm, hidden by the fabric, was Hanzo's tattoo. The dragons seemed to shift and purr with pleasure at the gesture, and Hanzo wanted to do the same thing.

"Well now," Jesse said softly. "I surely would like to take you up on that offer, darlin'. You got a name I can call you? I usually don't go up to strange men's hotel rooms, but if we were properly acquainted…"

Hanzo felt his flush deepen for an entirely different reason. Jesse had given his name, how had he been so rude and thoughtless as not to reciprocate?

Probably because he hadn't socialized, or given anyone his name for any purpose other than a business transaction, since he was a teenager. "Hanzo," he said, his voice coming out faintly as his breathing sped up.

Jesse's eyes flickered with curiosity, but the look quickly gave way to the heat. "Nice to meet ya, Hanzo," he said. "You want to finish that drink before we go?"

Hanzo glanced at the cup of sake sitting on the bar and curled his lip with distaste, but Jesse had a point. Impulsively, he picked up the cup and knocked it back in a single gulp, feeling the cheap liquor burn unpleasantly down his throat as he got to his feet. "I'm finished," he said. Jesse still had hold of his wrist, and he very much didn't mind that. "Let's go."

Jesse laughed, and he did indeed keep hold of Hanzo's wrist as they exited the bar.

They kissed in the elevator. Hanzo was sure it had to have been Jesse who initiated that, but it was almost as though they moved at the same moment. Jesse's lips tasted of whiskey and smoke, a flavour combination that Hanzo would have expected to find distasteful, but he drank it in eagerly with all of his senses as Jesse pressed him against the back wall of the elevator.

Hanzo would have been content to stay just where he was, with Jesse's tongue in his mouth, for hours, but a beep and a slight shift of gravity told them both that they'd reached their destination.

The moment they broke apart, Hanzo watched the elevator doors opening with a feeling of horror. Someone could have gotten on the elevator at any floor and seen him making out with a man like a horny teenager. Thankfully, no one was standing in the hall or watching them.

Jesse grabbed his hand again and Hanzo stumbled after him, still caught up in his turbulent feelings. "Which one's yours, babe?"

"This… this is not something I usually do," Hanzo stammered in confusion.

Jesse paused and glanced at him over his shoulder. Instead of amusement, Hanzo saw concern in his eyes. "I ain't judgin' you, darlin', but it ain't my style to push someone further than they're comfortable with. You havin' cold feet?"

For some reason, the fact that Jesse was willing to check in with him and even end things here at the smallest appearance of reluctance made any fears Hanzo harboured fly immediately out of the window. The heat rushing through his body certainly made backing out unattractive, and he shook his head quickly. "No, no, I want to do this."

He pulled his card out of his pocket and swallowed. "This way," he said, and tugged on Jesse's hand, taking the lead to his hotel room, which was at the end of the hall. The exit sign above the door leading to the back stairwell cast an unflattering glow over them both as Hanzo keyed into the room.

"Please, come in," Hanzo murmured as he pushed the door open. It wasn't a luxurious suite, but comfortable enough, with a large bed and a desk facing a window that overlooked the city. Hanzo prioritized safety and practicality over comfort these days, but he wasn't an animal, and the fee for the contract that had brought him here more than justified the expense.

"Nice room," Jesse said, but he only had eyes for Hanzo.

Hanzo found himself backing away as Jesse advanced, his fingers trembling as he undid the buttons of his vest. The backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down, and Jesse pounced with a growl, their lips meeting again and tongues lashing. Hanzo's breathing sped up again, his breaths almost quick enough to make him dizzy as he sucked eagerly on Jesse's tongue.

Jesse disengaged after thoroughly debauching Hanzo's mouth, and nibbled his way down his jaw to the sensitive skin of his throat. "Don't you worry, darlin'," Jesse said. "I'll take real good care of you."

Hanzo muttered something reflexively in response, a traditional phrase in Japanese. Jesse's words echoed that of a traditional Japanese marriage proposal, and Hanzo's mind was spinning in confusion and desire.

Jesse chuckled and nipped him lightly, just above the collar, then began deftly undoing the buttons Hanzo had by now forgotten about. Hanzo's own fingers were now occupied clinging to Jesse's shirt, not doing much of anything useful. "You're even prettier when you talk all foreign like that," he murmured. "Is it Japanese?"

Hanzo managed to recall enough English to respond. "Y-yes."

His chest was bared and Jesse's fingers eager on Hanzo's skin, pushing his shirt and vest off and tossing his tie aside. Hanzo gathered up enough of his wits to help, undoing his own cuffs and skinning out of the clothing. Jesse leaned forward immediately, applying his mouth to the bared expanse of Hanzo's flesh.

Hanzo gasped at the touch of Jesse's lips and reached for Jesse's shirt in return. "May I?" he whispered, feeling oddly shy to push things forward despite the obvious track they were on.

"Do what you like, darlin'," Jesse murmured between kisses and lovebites. "Goddamn," he added, pulling back a couple of inches to admire the tattoo on Hanzo's skin. "You looked all prim and proper sittin' at the bar down there. Who knew you'd have ink like that?"

Hanzo flushed faintly, this time with pride. Though he now eschewed his family ties and felt nothing but shame about his association with the Shimada yakuza clan, his dragons were a privilege he could not regret.

He had no intention of explaining the significance of the tattoo, however, so he only murmured thanks and divested Jesse of his own shirt. The left arm prosthesis was an interesting sight as well, quite an expensive piece by Hanzo's estimate, and terminated just above his elbow in a sophisticated joint. It wasn't new, and there was evidence of wear on the piece. Who was this man, who could afford such a piece of cybernetic technology, and how had he lost the arm? Yet if he could afford it in the first place, why not maintain it or replace it when it got scratched?

This was an anonymous liaison with a stranger, no matter that they had exchanged first names. He would never see Jesse again, after this, and Hanzo had no right to question him about his past. It would simply have to remain a mystery.

Both men pulled at one another's clothing, their hands skimming over skin and leaving heat and pleasurable tingles in their wake. Soon Hanzo found himself bared utterly to Jesse's gaze and the younger man pressed him back onto the mattress, covering him with his body. Jesse scarcely stopped talking, murmuring sweet nothings and compliments into Hanzo's ear as he stroked his cock. His calluses created delicious friction against the sensitive shaft, leaving Hanzo gasping and clutching at Jesse's shoulders.

"You're beautiful, fucking hell," Jesse purred. "Goddamn, from the moment I saw you, I wanted to kiss you."

"I… I feel the same," Hanzo gasped, his back arching as he writhed under Jesse's attentions. "Please, Jesse--" He groaned as another bolt of pleasure went through him, his ardour rising, but he didn't want to reach climax so quickly, but before he could voice anything further, the orgasm overtook him. He cried out as fluids flowed forth, pleasure crashing through him in an overwhelming wave. Jesse milked him uncompromisingly, continuing to stroke and pleasure him until every last drop was wrung from Hanzo's shuddering, shaking body.

For a long few moments, Hanzo could do nothing but try to breathe. Eventually, he became aware that Jesse was waiting with remarkable patience for him to recover, settled onto his side with his head pillowed on his hand, watching Hanzo with a contented and smug expression on his face as he petted Hanzo like a cat.

"Feeling better?" Jesse asked.

Hanzo swallowed. "I… yes," he said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Jesse purred. Hanzo couldn't even fault him for his smugness.

Hanzo hadn't forgotten that there was something else he wanted, but he felt no more able to articulate it than he had before. He swallowed. "Please, I want…"

"Anything, darlin'," Jesse promised with a grin. "Anythin' in my power, that is."

Hanzo could scarcely find the words to express it, his cheeks heating at the filthy images already flashing through his mind. When he spoke, it was scarcely more than a whisper. "I want to suck you," he said. "Please."

Jesse let out a groan as deep and heartfelt as if Hanzo's mouth were already pleasuring him. "Hot damn," he said. "You even ask to give head in the prettiest way a man's ever heard." He pulled back, letting go of Hanzo's member, and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. "Where do you want me?"

For a moment, Hanzo froze, transfixed by a myriad of options. Finally he made a shy gesture. "On… on your back, seems the simplest."

"As you wish," Jesse purred and rolled onto his back. He laced his fingers behind his head and smirked up at Hanzo, utterly naked and equally unashamed.

Hanzo turned onto his stomach and cautiously took Jesse's cock into his mouth, wrapping his fingers around the shaft. Soon he had found the rhythm and how to bob his head up and down, taking more and more of Jesse's cock in with each movement, and stimulating him even more with his hand. Jesse groaned and kept up a patter of encouragement and praise, and Hanzo's ears burned with both embarrassment and pleasure.

Finally, Jesse also shuddered with his own release, a flood of bitter fluids coating Hanzo's tongue. He swallowed dutifully and raised his head, watching with fascination as Jesse's face went slack and vulnerable with pleasure.

How had he lived his entire life without doing this? What a shame he likely would go a long while again without having such pleasure.

Afterwards, Hanzo slept the sleep of the innocent and utterly spent. When he woke the next morning, Jesse was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse McCree slipped out of Hanzo's hotel room just before dawn, careful not to wake him.

He turned right immediately and pushed through the heavy steel fire door with the 'exit' sign overhead. He whistled with contentment as he headed down the stairwell towards the first floor, a spring in his step. When he'd agreed to go on this solo mission, he certainly hadn't expected to enjoy the company of a gorgeous man, but when he'd seen Hanzo across the room it had occurred to him that he had nowhere to be before the morning.

And boy, he had no regrets.

The man had been unexpectedly nervous and sweet - not at all the way Jesse would have pegged him to begin with. Jesse's first impression had been of a stiff and proper kind of guy. A man like that was likely to be a total freak in the sheets, or utterly boring and repressed, as far as Jesse figured, but instead Hanzo had been eager to please, willing to try new things, and not pushy at all.

If Jesse were inclined to get romantic about a one night stand, he might be in love. A repeat encounter - maybe getting the chance to introduce Hanzo to more than just oral and mutual masturbation - was a very attractive image.

Too bad he was never going to see the guy again.

Also, it was a little awkward that he had the same first name as Genji's brother, but Jesse wouldn't hold that against him. Clearly, he wasn't a monster like that.

But now it was time to put the enjoyable encounter behind him and focus on work. Jesse reached the bottom of the stairwell and went through another door, entering the underground parkade where he'd left his rental car. The vehicle, a nondescript white sedan, sat innocently between two hulking SUV's that were squeezed so tightly into their spots that Jesse almost had to be a contortionist to get into the driver's seat. Thankfully, he didn't need to go anywhere.

He popped open the trunk and sorted through the contents of a duffel bag inside. Finding what he was looking for, Jesse took a quick look around and confirmed that he was alone. He had chosen a parking spot where one of the support columns effectively hid him from view of the nearest security camera, so that wasn't a concern. Having confirmed there were no observers around, he pulled off his suit, shirt, and slacks and dressed in blue jeans and a tan button-down shirt. He crammed his hat on his head and wrapped his belt around his hips.

Taking off the suit he'd worn to blend in during his reconnaissance and dressing in his more accustomed costume - even if he lacked his armour - felt like he was a snake shedding an uncomfortable and too-small layer of skin, leaving him clean and refreshed.

He didn't want to attract any more attention in this costume than he had in the other, though, so he tucked his Peacemaker into a holster inside his waistband, hidden from view, rather than hanging it on his hip. Finally, he put on a denim jacket that hung low, covering any part of the holster or gun that might become visible.

Then he headed upstairs and seated himself in the bar once more. The rising sun was still under the iron grey clouds and cast the metal and glass finishings with a fiery yellow glow, and all was silent except for the creaking of the omnic bartender's right elbow joint as it cleaned glasses with a rag. At this early hour, the only other patron was a drunk who had never made it to his room the night before. He lay sprawled and snoring peacefully over his table, his head and body covered by a blanket.

Jesse lit up a cigar, ordered a whiskey from the bartender, and settled into the booth, watching the entrances for any sign of his assignment.

It didn't take long before something happened. A short, balding man alighted from a taxi out front and scurried into the building, holding an alligator-skin briefcase up above his head to shield him from the rain. Jesse took a sip of his breakfast whiskey and watched the man over the rim of the glass as he entered the bar and looked around, clutching that same briefcase to his chest.

No, not suspicious in the least.

Jesse set down his glass and reached into his pocket, pulling out a red handkerchief with white dots on it. He dabbed his lips with it and then folded it up ostentatiously before tucking it into his breast pocket. Apparently the gesture with the prearranged signal was grand enough for the man to spot him, because after an obvious look around the four corners of the bar, the man hurried towards Jesse and slid into the booth opposite, his back to the door.

"You're the one? The agent from Overwatch?" the man asked, his voice heavily accented - something Scandinavian, Jesse would have guessed. He didn't have to guess, though. He knew exactly who this man was, and where he came from.

"I'm him," Jesse drawled. "Call me Jesse McCree. And you're Viktor Karlsson from Talon. You look like you need a drink. Want me to get you one?" He made as if to slide out of the booth so he could go to the bar.

The man twitched and looked around, hissing to shush Jesse as if he was terrified they had been overheard. If it weren't for how empty the place was, Jesse would have been concerned that his charge would attract attention just by how twitchy he was being. But Jesse had chosen a seat some distance both from the bartender and the sleeping drunk, and it was unlikely either of them would be able to hear their conversation.

Jesse leaned forward, and the man's attention snapped back towards him. "Listen," he said. "You're jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full a rocking chairs. Relax. Have a drink if you want one, but most importantly - _relax_. I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you."

Viktor glared at Jesse as if offended. "Why aren't you taking this seriously?" he growled. "You have to understand the risk I am taking. Talon does _not_ give up, and these plans--" He paused and pressed his palm to the case beside him in a distinctly possessive manner, then lowered his voice so much that even given how close they sat Jesse had to strain to hear him. "These plans represent highly sensitive and _dangerous_ research. They cannot fall into the wrong hands."

"Good thing you're safely in the right hands," Jesse replied, giving the brim of his hat a tug and then offering an easy smirk at the fuming man. Jesse could already tell this job was going to be a pain in the ass, and he found himself wishing he was still in bed with the Japanese guy from last night. "I understand the risks, Viktor," he went on. "I might look stupid, but I ain't. Trust me - I've cased this place from top to bottom. We just got to lay low, hold out for a few hours, and then our extraction team will be here to pick us up and you'll be safe as houses by midnight tonight. Talon won't even know you're not where you're supposed to be, let alone that you took those plans, before you're out of town and far out of their reach."

Viktor's eyes widened with horror. "A few _hours_?" he hissed. "We have to stay here for hours? No! That is unacceptable."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "I told you--"

"No, McCree, I am telling _you_ ," Viktor said, his voice beginning to tremble. "Talon already knows I have the plans. I had reason to believe that something had gone wrong, and I had to move up the timetable. I had to steal them _yesterday_ , not early this morning as we originally discussed. It is extremely likely that Talon has already sent their assassins after me. I will be lucky to survive a few more hours, even with your - undoubtedly capable - protection."

Jesse paused, his drink halfway to his mouth again, then set it down. The ice in the glass clinked together, a tiny tinkle of punctuation on an already fucked up day. "Well, shit," he said.

"Now do you realize the gravity of this situation?" Viktor demanded in a hiss. "We cannot stay in this bar, out in the open like this. They will find me, and when they find me, they will kill me."

"Yeah, I get it," Jesse said tiredly, sliding out of the booth. "You changed the plan on us, and now we're both gonna have to deal with the consequences. Come on." He stood up, adjusted his hat, and then drained the last of his whiskey. "Follow me."

Viktor leaped up as though this was the best news he'd heard all day. He kept hold of his precious case and clutched it to his chest, following as Jesse set off across the bar with a ground-eating stride. "Where are we going? Does Overwatch have a safehouse in Monaco? A Watchpoint?"

Jesse wondered how Viktor was going to react when he realized that Overwatch was now nothing but a collection of misfits hiding in one abandoned Watchpoint. "No such luck. We've got to wait for the pickup, but we can get you out of sight and I'll protect you. That's my job, remember?"

He pressed the button at the elevator and waited, while Viktor grew increasingly twitchy, tapping his foot and fiddling with the handle of his briefcase. "Can't we take the stairs?"

"We're goin' to the tenth floor. Feel free," Jesse said in a measured tone, watching the numbers tick downwards above one of the elevator doors.

This guy's tension was really starting to get on Jesse's nerves. His own shoulders were beginning to tense in sympathy, and the hairs on his neck rose as if someone were really watching them. Jesse drew in a breath, trying to dispel the feeling. The place was still empty, only the omnic bartender, eternally washing its glass, and the drunk, who was finally beginning to stir. The latter lifted his head, pushing his dark hair out of his face as he pulled away the blanket someone had thoughtfully draped over him.

At that moment several things happened, in quick succession.

First, the elevator doors opened right behind Jesse with a gentle chime, revealing an empty cage.

Second, the blanket fell away from the drunk's body, revealing a bright and colourful tattoo and a massive bow, which he lifted as he swung out of the seat with a perfect speed and grace, nocking an arrow in the same movement.

Acting almost entirely on instinct, Jesse grabbed Viktor and threw him into the elevator, putting his own body between himself and the fake drunk man as he pulled his Peacemaker and drew a bead on the man with the bow and arrow. Even as he aimed his weapon, Jesse backed up, bodily shoving Viktor further into the elevator as Jesse stepped inside.

Jesse and Hanzo met and locked gazes, and their eyes opened wide with mutual recognition and dismay.

Hanzo shot first. The arrow flew straight towards Jesse, who slammed an elbow into Viktor's stomach, doubling him over, and then dodged to the right, firing six shot straight at Hanzo. Hanzo dove below the table, disappearing from view just as the arrow lodged itself in the back wall of the elevator, pretty much where Viktor's head had been before Jesse hit him.

Jesse heard the bartender call out. "Please sirs, if you do not put your weapons away, I will be forced to call the authorities--" 

\--Then the elevator's doors closed and a pleasant female voice asked, "What floor please?"

"Tenth!" Jesse snapped. He reloaded with quick fingers, staring at the elevator doors. Would the assassin--

_Fuck, fuck, you mean the assassin I fuckin' SLEPT WITH last night._

\--would he try to force the doors open? If he did, just how much blood was going to get on Jesse when he shot Hanzo in the face?

Thankfully, Hanzo didn't force the issue. The elevator rose smoothly, each floor passing accompanied by a discordant rhythm of chimes that made Jesse's hair stand on end.

"Min Gud!" Viktor swore, gasping as he straightened painfully. "Did you have to hit me like that?"

"Saved your life, didn't it?" Jesse gritted, pointing with his head towards the arrow lodged in the back wall of the elevator. His heart was still racing from the unexpected attack. Had Hanzo known all along? No, that was crazy talk. It was Jesse who had approached Hanzo, and it wasn't like Hanzo had been putting himself out there to attract him.

Hanzo had been casing the bar, just like Jesse had. Preparing, minding his own business, blending in in plain sight. And Jesse hadn't noticed one bit. After Jesse left, Hanzo had performed the same kind of transformation, returning to the bar to play the sleeping drunk and lie in wait for his prey. He had to have been awake when Jesse left, after all, and had headed straight for the bar instead of taking a detour, as Jesse had done.

Nor, it seemed, had Hanzo known Jesse's identity. Not based on the look on his face when he recognized Jesse.

The elevator came to a stop with one last chime and the door opened. Jesse took a step, then paused, realizing that some of the soft beeping he had been hearing as they rose was still going on.

He turned and examined the arrow. A tiny light on the head turned on and off and a quiet beep accompanied it.

Jesse jammed a foot in the way of the doors and jerked his head. "Get out of here," he snapped. "Go to room 1023 and wait for me by the door."

"What's wrong?" Viktor squeaked, but he didn't wait for Jesse to repeat his command before scurrying out of the elevator and racing down the hallway.

Jesse examined the arrow without touching it. _If it was fixin' to blow up, it'd have done so already, so let's assume it ain't a bomb,_ he thought. But it had to be some kind of useful device to Hanzo.

Then it hit him. A tracking arrow.

"Fuck," he growled. He reached in and pressed all the buttons for the floor above ten, and stepped out of the elevator, letting the doors close. But the damage had probably already been done. Sending the arrow higher might cause a little bit of a delay, but Hanzo would probably have noticed that the elevator stopped the longest on this floor, which meant they had very little time.

He turned and jogged down the hall towards Viktor, who had pressed himself into the alcove formed by the door to the hotel room as if to avoid shrapnel.

"Is everything okay?" he asked in a tremulous voice as Jesse inserted the key card and opened the door.

"Not exactly," Jesse growled. "Fucker probably tracked us to this floor. I need to get my stuff and send a signal to Overwatch that we're gonna have to lay low somewhere else, and then we need to skedaddle."

"I told you they were after me," Viktor moaned.

Jesse ignored him. In the room was a single small suitcase full of stuff related to his cover story, and he hadn't bothered to unpack it. He didn't want to leave anything behind that could be used to identify him, so he latched the suitcase and then moved to the safe in his closet, which contained the only object of value in the room.

Inside the metal box provided by the hotel was a small electronic signalling device. The moment he pulled it out of the lead-lined box, he knew it would start sending a signal back to Overwatch that let them know that he was ready to be picked up.

He put the device in his jacket pocket, and then turned to Viktor. "All right, Viktor, let's make like a tree and get the fuck--"

Viktor wasn't looking at him. He was staring out the window to the balcony, where Hanzo now stood. Even as Jesse looked, he drew back an arrow and both bow and arrow began to glow. When he let fly, the arrow hit the glass and shattered the window into a million pieces.

"Goddamnit," Jesse swore, and raised his Peacemaker.


	3. Chapter 3

When Hanzo woke shortly before dawn, it was to the sound of his door closing as Jesse left. There was a bittersweet feeling to that. On the one hand, he was sorry to see the man go. He was particularly saddened that Jesse had chosen to sneak out while he was asleep. To Hanzo, that choice affirmed the casual and meaningless nature of their encounter. 

On the other, it was a relief not to have to explain why he _also_ needed to go out at that early hour of the morning.

Hanzo had risen shortly thereafter, and dressed in his customary and traditional clothes befitting an assassin of his skill and reputation. He then travelled to his hunting ground in the bar to wait for his mark.

Not long after he had arranged himself in one of the booths, covering himself with a blanket to disguise Stormbow and his identity, Hanzo had heard someone enter the bar - no doubt a trained agent of some kind, intending to extract Hanzo's prey. It was unlikely to be some random hotel guest at this hour, though if it were that would make things easier. No, Hanzo had to assume that this was an agent, and to be on guard.

Hiding where he was, like a hunter in a blind, Hanzo didn't dare try to look at the intruder. He merely noted his presence as an inconvenient factor and continued to wait.

When the mark arrived, he went straight for the other individual, confirming Hanzo's original suspicion. There was a brief conversation between Viktor Karlsson and his handler, the details of which were mostly too quiet for Hanzo to distinguish their words, but the content of their conversation was unimportant. Hanzo caught enough when Viktor's voice rose with impatience and anger that he got the gist. Viktor had extracted the sensitive documents from Talon early and was fearful of reprisal from assassins in their employ.

As well he might. Hanzo himself, after all, had had enough time to receive the information for this job and arrive early enough to thoroughly investigate the hotel before Viktor's arrival. Clearly, Viktor had been compromised well before now and was in immediate danger.

This was somewhat inconvenient. Hanzo had hoped that a circumstance would present itself whereby Hanzo could catch Viktor alone, thereby minimizing collateral damage and personal exposure, but with Viktor's state of agitation and fear, that was clearly not to be.

In fact, shortly thereafter, the confrontation was forced. Viktor successfully convinced his handler that flight was necessary, and Hanzo felt his sole opportunity to spring the trap had come. He rose, choosing a sonic arrow to ensure that if his mark escaped he would be able to follow him, and confronted the two men.

That was when things started to go wrong. 

Hanzo had _not_ expected to see Jesse standing between himself and his mark. Hanzo's one-time lover was now dressed like a cowboy, and carrying a large pistol. Truth be told, the sight startled Hanzo into a crucial moment of indecision.

Thankfully, that moment of surprise was obviously shared. In fact, it was likely the only thing that spared Hanzo's life. No sooner had he let fly his prepared arrow and ducked down for cover, but he heard several bullets zing past above his head with only inches to spare.

Jesse clearly knew how to handle the weapon. Thankfully, instead of following up and pressing the attack, Jesse retreated into the elevator, giving Hanzo a reprieve.

Not that Hanzo intended to give up on his chosen path. The introduction of Jesse into the mix did not turn Hanzo from his intended course. He slung Stormbow onto his back and fitted a small lens over his eye, tuning the device to the sonic arrow he had fired into the elevator.

A consultation of Hanzo's HUD disclosed that the arrow stopped for some seconds on the tenth floor. By the time Hanzo learned that information, he was already outside of the hotel, climbing swiftly up the balconies. He reached the tenth floor and then turned aside, leaping from balcony to balcony, pausing at each room to listen for voices.

Before long he heard the familiar cadence of conversation between Jesse and Viktor. Hanzo paused and pulled Stormbow off of his back, drawing another arrow and activating it. The arrow began to hum with considerable sonic energy, as if infused with the energy of a storm.

He was spotted an instant before he loosed the arrow, but that didn't matter. It pierced the glass, vibrating at a frequency powerful enough to shatter it, and the window virtually exploded. Both Jesse and Viktor were forced to duck and cover their faces as glass showered them both.

This was exactly what Hanzo had hoped would happen. He darted forward, shouldering his bow once more. In such close quarters, the bow would be of little use except as a bludgeoning weapon, and he didn't want to damage it. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hanzo knew that his most prudent course would be to kill both of them. Jesse was clearly an excellent shot and a talented agent, and Hanzo's mission parameters contained no requirement to contain collateral damage. Instead, he slammed his shoulder into Jesse's chest before the other man could recover from the flying glass.

Jesse grunted and stumbled backwards, crashing into the door and dropping his weapon. Hanzo then lunged for Viktor, who cried out in fear and raised his luggage case in a protective gesture.

Hanzo grabbed onto the case. Viktor screamed again, a panicked negation.

"No, please don't--"

Jesse hit Hanzo from the side with just as much force as Hanzo had used against him a moment before. Hanzo had a firm enough grip on the case that though he was flung away from Viktor, he managed to keep hold of the case. As the case was ripped away from Viktor's grasp, Hanzo felt a slight additional pull. A slender thread connected the handle of the case to a bracelet around Viktor's wrist, and the thread snapped.

Viktor shrieked, a high sound, full of fear, and then an explosion erupted from where he stood.

The explosion was forceful enough to fling Hanzo and Jesse across the room. Hanzo's body tumbled, out of his control despite his training, his head ringing from the bomb's detonation. Jesse held grimly onto him for a fraction of a second before they were pulled apart, and Hanzo's back finally slammed against the wall next to the balcony door.

He heard a soft groan from a short distance away. At least, his addled mind thought foolishly, Jesse was still alive.

But Hanzo wouldn't be for long if he didn't move.

He pushed himself up grimly, his right hand still clutching the deadly case. He didn't look in the direction of the unfortunate Viktor - he didn't need to look to know there would be little left of the man. Instead, he focused his attention on standing. On escaping, before Jesse could regain his senses.

Hanzo gained his feet. His skin, where it was exposed, stung from a thousand tiny glass cuts. His ears rang. His head pounded, the pain focused primarily on a single point at the back of his skull - no doubt, he had struck it during the confusion. 

He put all of that out of his mind as something to deal with later, and took a running start. He heard Jesse swear behind him, but ignored him as he flung himself off of the balcony.

Ten stories sounded like a lot, but he knew from long experience that a falling human body could cover that distance in a very short period of time indeed. Immediately as Hanzo began to fall, he grasped an arrow, feeling for a particular pattern of the feathers as he pulled it from his quiver. He turned, aiming upwards with the special arrow nocked.

And saw Jesse plummeting towards him, his expression caught in a combination of terror and determination. Jesse reached out, as if he could close the distance and somehow capture Hanzo in mid-air. 

"Are you insane?" Hanzo snarled. He fired the arrow towards Jesse and it zipped upwards past the cowboy, trailing a long, slender line, which he hooked onto his belt. The arrow lodged itself in the underside of one of the balconies.

The line tightened and Hanzo was flung upwards once more. He saw Jesse's eyes widen with shock and renewed fear as Hanzo stopped falling. Jesse flailed, as if only just realizing that he had leaped from a building without any way to survive the fall.

Hanzo flung out a hand and caught Jesse's forearm as the cowboy fell past him. Jesse's hand grabbed back tightly, and there was a powerful jerk that ran through both of them as they came to a stop at the end of the line. Hanzo grimaced as he took Jesse's weight, the two of them swinging wildly along the side of the building. 

Hanzo touched a button on the carabiner and the line began to retract, pulling them upwards. Jesse hung limply from Hanzo's arm, holding tightly but not struggling, which was a blessing. Hanzo wasn't quite sure why he had saved the man, but he knew that if Jesse pushed the issue he might not have much choice but to drop him. As it was, his shoulders were screaming with the effort of supporting the densely-muscled cowboy.

After an interminable few minutes, Hanzo pulled them both over the railing of a balcony some several floors below the one where the explosion had occurred. The sound of a fire alarm blared from inside the building, and sirens wailed as emergency services approached. The rhythmic beat of a helicopter - either media or more law enforcement, Hanzo assumed - approached rapidly.

Hanzo lowered Jesse to the ground. The other man was insensible, his breathing shallow and rapid. A knot swelled on his temple and blood trickled from its centre. Perhaps Jesse hadn't been fully conscious when he threw himself after Hanzo over the balcony railing. It certainly had been a suicidal act, not simply reckless.

Hanzo straightened and considered possible escape routes. He needed to get out of here before Jesse woke. The fire from the explosion was several floors above them, and would likely be contained before significant damage was done to the hotel. Hanzo was also confident that Jesse would be capable of cleaning himself up and escaping the building without running afoul of the authorities. Hanzo had no reason to remain or concern himself any further with the man's welfare.

He reached up and pulled the rappelling arrow free, shoving it back into his quiver. Then he peered through the curtains into the hotel room, trying to ascertain if it was occupied. The helicopter was getting closer, the beat of its rotors a physical presence, thrumming through Hanzo's pounding head. 

Abruptly, after several seconds of doing nothing, Hanzo realized that he was stalling.

Jesse groaned, and Hanzo jumped, whirling around. The agent's eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up. Hanzo stared, rooted to the ground. Jesse was conscious now, so there was no reason to stay and make sure he was all right, but something else now held Hanzo's attention.

There was indeed a helicopter heading for the hotel, but it was jet black, unmarked and sinister. The doors on the sides were open and ropes were being thrown outwards. Black-suited men and women wearing helmets and uniforms with no insignia on them slid down the ropes, swinging towards the hotel and flinging themselves off into space. They arced through the air and caught themselves on the balcony railings, spidering upwards with as much deftness and alacrity as Hanzo would have done. 

A couple of them looked in Hanzo's direction and aimed guns at him, opening fire. Hanzo threw himself to the ground next to Jesse, and wrapped his arm around Jesse's neck, pulling him down with him. Hopefully, the gunners would believe that Hanzo had been shot and eliminated. They probably were trying to prevent any innocent witnesses from identifying them.

It was fortunate that the hour was still early, or there might well be more rubberneckers.

"Hey!" Jesse exclaimed, squirming and still sounding befuddled from his injury. "Let me go."

Jesse's fist connected with Hanzo's ribs and Hanzo winced. Thankfully, he felt only a dull ache in its wake, rather than the bright flash of pain that would suggest a broken rib. He dropped the precious suitcase and caught Jesse's fist, stopping a second blow. "Be silent!" he hissed. "Do not struggle. I am not attacking you. Talon is here, and they are shooting at us."

Jesse's fist trembled in Hanzo's hand, then relaxed, no longer straining against Hanzo's grip. "Did you say Talon is here?"

"Yes," Hanzo growled. "They will shortly find us if you are not careful."

"Ain't _you_ Talon?" Jesse demanded hotly. "You killed Viktor."

"I didn't mean to kill him," Hanzo said. "I just meant to get the case, and I do not work for Talon. This is a setup." He raised his head a few inches. The helicopter was hovering in place, above where they were, obviously remaining to retrieve the Talon agents after they had recovered their property - the property that Hanzo now possessed.

He let go of Jesse and crawled towards the door. He investigated it and found it unlocked, and carefully slid it open. The hotel room was indeed rented out, though not occupied at the moment. A suitcase lay open on the floor, clothes spilling out of it, and the bed was yet unmade. Hanzo climbed into the room and stood up, careful to keep the curtains between himself and the helicopter's line of sight.

Jesse followed him, getting to his feet with a pained grunt once he was inside. Hanzo wondered if he was badly injured, and watched him closely for a moment. Jesse wobbled and listed rather badly, like a poorly-loaded ship, but he maintained his feet. He shot Hanzo a look.

"Gimme that case," he said.

"No," Hanzo retorted. To forestall further argument, he swiftly changed the subject. "We must escape from the hotel before Talon locates us. Shortly, they will discover that the case is gone and that their trap was a failure, and they will search the hotel for any sign of who might have taken it. They will assume that person is you."

Jesse looked at him critically, swaying from side to side. "What's with all this 'we' business? There weren't no 'we' when you were shootin' at us earlier."

"I also saved your life when you foolishly jumped off the balcony," Hanzo pointed out shortly. "Why would I have bothered to do that if I meant you harm?"

Jesse blinked a couple of times, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah... that part really happened?"

Hanzo shook his head with impatience. He was reluctant to turn his back on the cowboy when the man still carried a firearm, but their standoff was getting him nowhere, and the man hadn't been aggressive recently. So Hanzo turned and headed for the door. "You may follow me or not, at your choosing--" He was interrupted by a groan and a thud behind him.

He turned. Jesse was on the ground again, swooning. Hanzo sighed. He should leave him here. He really should. Hanzo had not worked with - or spent significant amounts of time with - any other person since he had left the Shimada Clan. He shouldn't begin to change that habit now.

A knock sounded at the door, then there was the scrape of a key. Hanzo darted into the bathroom, getting out of the view of the door. He stood behind the bathroom door, angled so that he could see the front hall of the room in the mirror.

A member of the cleaning staff entered. "Sir!" she said in French. "You must evacuate because of the fire alarm. Please-- Do you need help?"

Hanzo cursed. He stepped out of the bathroom, blocking the woman from entering the room further. "Go. I will help my friend."

She stared at him, her eyes widening so far that he could see all of the whites around the dark irises. "Is that a bow and arrow?"

"Just go." He spotted the cleaning cart standing in the hallway and pointed. "Leave that. Get out of the hotel. There are dangerous people here. But first, give me that." He reached out and plucked the universal keycard out of her frozen fingers and tucked it into his own pocket.

She fled. In retrospect, Hanzo realized he probably qualified as one of the 'dangerous people' he mentioned, and that he had probably terrified her. 

There was little he could do about it, though. 

He picked up Jesse in a fireman's carry. The man grunted and muttered as Hanzo manhandled him, but didn't struggle. His head lolled about as Hanzo placed him into the laundry hamper and began to wheel it down the hallway. He attracted a few strange looks from other holidayers who were busy evacuating themselves, but most of them were too busy corralling children or simply didn't care enough to investigate why a man dressed in ornate Japanese clothing, carrying a bow and arrow, was wheeling an unconscious and bleeding cowboy down the hall in a laundry hamper.

Everyone but Hanzo headed for the stairs. Hanzo made for the service elevator. 

As he wheeled the hamper into the elevator, Jesse stirred again. "Whereutakinme," he mumbled, rubbing his face and blinking up at Hanzo.

Hanzo gazed serenely down at him. "Do you have a vehicle?"

Jesse considered that for a few moments. "Yeah...?" He seemed doubtful.

Hanzo searched him. Jesse protested weakly, then passed out again. He found a handful of bullets for Jesse's revolver, the gun itself, and a set of car keys with a wireless fob. He took everything.

Once they had reached the parking level, it didn't take long for Hanzo to locate Jesse's car using the fob. Getting an unconscious Jesse into the car with the vans flanking it so closely was impossible, so he reluctantly chose to lock Jesse into the trunk. Getting himself into the driver's seat required some maneuvering, but soon Hanzo was pulling away from the hotel.

At some point, Hanzo would figure out why he hadn't just left Jesse behind to fend for himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse would have liked to say that this was the first time he'd woken locked in the trunk of a car, but that'd be a lie.

Long before a young Jesse McCree and Elizabeth Ashe had gotten together with a group of their friends and formed the Deadlock Rebel gang, Jesse had run with another gang, called the Rustlers. They had been much less organized than Deadlock had ultimately become, but had also been far more brutal. For Jesse, who had been young, poor, and living in their territory, joining up with them had been the only way to survive.

Like all gangs, the Rustlers had their rituals, certain initiation rites and requirements. Most of them were intended to prove loyalty. For that purpose, Jesse had killed for the first time on the orders of a more senior member of the gang. Later, he had been one of the ones to give such orders.

One of the other initiation rites - less immoral, but just as scarring in its own way - was usually administered long before anyone ever trusted a recruit enough to put a gun in a their hand. It was one of several ways the leaders of the gang and their henchmen had devised to determine just how committed you were to join. This was a method used to weed out those who were too weak, too craven, or just plain didn't want it enough.

If you had the audacity to approach the gang and ask to join, they would hit you over the head, throw you in the trunk of a car, and drive you out into the desert to die. If you made it back and still wanted to join the gang, you were basically a shoe-in.

When the assholes had done this to Jesse, he had been fourteen years old. They had tied his hands together with his bootlaces and left him in the shade of a rock with a single bottle of water and a gun with one bullet in it. Jesse remembered hearing laughter just as he began to stir, and being told that the bullet was there to put into his brainpan if he fell down a gully and broke a leg. Jesse had considered putting it in the gang member's head instead, but he had driven off before Jesse could free his hands.

Jesse had instead used the bullet to shoot a rabbit and had made it out in two days, parched, sunburned, and pissed off. It was the fastest time in Rustler history. He had still joined the gang, but on some level, he had never quite forgiven them.

All of those feelings - the memory of the hot sun beating down on his unprotected skin, the dust in his mouth, the laughter of his future comrades in his ears - came flooding over him the moment Jesse opened his eyes and banged his forehead on the underside of the trunk compartment. He had heard of PTSD, and this was a little like that. For a moment, he was a fourteen year old kid again, snot-nosed, arrogant, and terrified.

But Jesse was no longer that little kid, and despite the continued pounding in his head and a cottony feeling in his mouth, it didn't take long to shove those feelings down inside and lock them away.

This time, his hands weren't bound, which once he had recovered enough to think about it, seemed pretty surprising. He didn't stop to consider why Hanzo had made that oversight, and instead set to work trying to find a weapon. His peacekeeper was gone - this was _not_ a surprise - and without the gun, the bullets in his pocket wouldn't do him any good. Anyway, the bullets were missing, too, along with his car keys.

Amazingly, it turned out that the sharp corner poking into his back was the wheel of his suitcase. So Hanzo had actually locked him in his _own_ trunk, and hadn't even removed his gear first.

This was enough of a shock that Jesse stopped to wonder if maybe Hanzo wasn't as skilled as he had appeared to be.

Then again, maybe it was a trap.

Jesse considered the suitcase for several minutes, then finally shrugged. If it was some kind of trap, then he might as well find out what kind. He opened it up and felt around inside for anything of use, but he only had his change of clothes in there. All of his equipment was in his hotel room - the one, he recalled belatedly, which had recently blown up. Apparently it wasn't a trap - Hanzo had just known that there wasn't any reason to deny him the suitcase.

Much of what had happened after the explosion was confused and distorted in Jesse's mind, and when he tried to recall it more clearly, his headache flared anew. He felt a knot on his temple and grimaced. All he could remember vaguely was falling and Hanzo talking to him, but he couldn't remember how he'd gotten from his hotel room to the trunk.

All he could conclude was that he was being kidnapped by Talon.

 _Well, damnit. I liked him, too,_ Jesse thought with chagrin as he wrapped his tie around his fist. If he were fast enough and took Hanzo by surprise, it might make a decent garrote, or allow him to disarm the man. It was a shitty as hell weapon, but it would just have to do.

Even as he came to that conclusion, the car came to a stop. Jesse closed his eyes to feign unconsciousness and waited, his hands with their crude weapon hidden from immediate view.

The driver's door slammed and there was a short silence, and then the trunk lid opened. Jesse watched from between his lashes as Hanzo gazed down upon him. Rain pattered down lightly onto Jesse's face.

"Jesse, are you awake?" Hanzo asked softly.

Jesse struck like a viper. He pushed himself up, reaching out with his silk-wrapped fists and tried to get the length of fabric around Hanzo's throat.

Unfortunately, it didn't work out quite the way he had planned.

Hanzo reacted so quickly that Jesse almost didn't see it. He jerked backwards and grabbed the cloth strip in one hand, and Jesse's shoulder in the other. In an instant, he had dragged Jesse out of the trunk and slammed him face-first into the dirt.

Even worse, the improvised weapon was immediately turned into a liability, as Hanzo wrapped the silk around both of Jesse's wrists and tied them tightly together with a move so deft that Jesse might have thought Hanzo was a rodeo rider and Jesse was a hapless calf.

Jesse struggled weakly. Hanzo straddled him, keeping him from kicking.

"Let me go, motherfucker!" Jesse snapped.

"I will not do so simply because you command it," Hanzo said, with maddening calm, though his voice was tight with anger. "But if you swear to cooperate and not to attack me again, I will release your bonds."

Jesse snarled, and then spat out a few grains of dirt that had gotten into his mouth. "If I promise, you'll let me up?"

Hanzo paused. "So long as you are honest in your promise. Know that if you attempt to betray me, I am not above ending your life to save my own. But I assure you that unless you force me to into it, I will not harm you."

Jesse ground his teeth together for a few moments, then nodded fractionally. "I want my gun back," he said.

"No," Hanzo said. "Not until we part ways, or I am sure that you mean me no harm. You are far too good a shot."

The compliment went a long way towards mollifying Jesse, despite his cynicism, and he sighed. "Fine, all right. I promise I'll behave. Just let me up, damn you."

Hanzo remained silent.

Jesse gritted his teeth. "I _promise_ , I won't attack you or hurt you in any way. I swear on my momma's grave, all right?"

Hanzo seemed to accept this. He sighed and unwrapped Jesse's wrists, then rose to his feet in a disconcertingly smooth motion. Jesse gained his own feet with far less grace, feeling as shaky as the aforementioned calf once again, tottering on his feet in comparison to Hanzo. "The fuck did you do to me?" Jesse asked, rubbing the sore spot on his temple.

"Nothing," Hanzo said. "I suspect you have a concussion. You fell unconscious before we left the hotel." He folded Jesse's tie and offered it back to him.

Jesse took it automatically, then held it awkwardly, unsure of what to do with it. After a second, he shoved it into his pocket. A concussion? That explained a lot. "Why'd you even take me from the hotel?" he said. "Why'd you blow it up? I said I'd behave, but I ain't gonna just be a pussycat if you're keeping me a hostage."

Hanzo sighed, and gestured past the car. "I will answer all of your questions, but we should go inside to discuss this rather than standing in the open."

Once again, Jesse was forced to realize that he wasn't on his game. He had been so focused on Hanzo that he hadn't even looked around. He took a moment to do so now, and discovered that Hanzo had parked his vehicle in the driveway of a small cottage. Beyond the cottage Jesse saw only a blue haze that made him feel dizzy for a moment, before he realized that he was looking out at the sky beyond a sharp drop.

Hanzo had taken him to the top of a mountain. Jesse didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but he had to assume he was still in France. Somewhere in the French Alps, then. That was... a big area for the ragged remains of Overwatch to search for him, even once they realized that he was missing, which wouldn't be until midnight tonight when he missed his rendezvous.

Jesse McCree was alone.

He drew a breath and let it out, then scratched his metal hand through his unruly hair. "Yeah, let's go on inside," he said.

Hanzo inclined his head and gestured for Jesse to proceed him. Because of course he did. Jesse gritted his teeth and walked towards the front door of the chalet.

"Jesse," Hanzo called out sharply. "Wait."

Jesse stopped, his neck prickling, and turned around. "What now--" he began, but stopped and jerked back as Hanzo launched something towards him. He caught it automatically.

A key on a heavy metal fob.

Hanzo gave a nod, then opened the back door of the vehicle, reaching in and pulling out his bow and quiver. Jesse frowned, bemused, and walked to the door, inserted the key and turned it. The door unlocked and Jesse cautiously opened it.

To his surprise, there wasn't a crew of menacing Talon agents sitting inside. It was, in fact, completely empty so far as Jesse could tell. The building had the disused, slightly sterile air of a hotel room, rather than a place that people lived. Still, it was comfortable and even cozy. Too bad he was here with a murderer rather than a date.

Hanzo came up behind Jesse, his sandaled feet scraping quietly on the wooden front porch. "Will this suffice?" he asked, and Jesse jumped, realizing that he was just standing in the lobby of the chalet like an idiot, gawking.

"Where're your Talon pals?" Jesse asked, backing away from Hanzo a couple of steps, which carried him further into the house. Hanzo closed the front door and moved into the kitchen, setting down a grocery bag. Had he gone grocery shopping while Jesse was locked in the trunk? Apparently he had.

Jesse wondered where Viktor's briefcase was. It hadn't been in the trunk, and Hanzo wasn't carrying it. Had he left it in the car, or hid it somewhere on their route?

"I already told you, I am not a member of Talon," Hanzo said, opening the fridge and putting the contents of the bag into it. He had bought some staples, easy and cheap food that would fuel the body and was probably available at a corner store. He moved with deliberation and grace, as if choosing each movement carefully. "It was Talon who murdered your charge. They were invading the hotel to recover the package, which is why I had to get you and I out of there for our safety."

A memory floated around Jesse's mind, looking for something to attach to - a memory of Hanzo's voice saying "this was a set-up".

"You think I was set-up?" he blurted out.

Hanzo closed the fridge and folded his arms, leaning back against the counter with a grimace. His arms bulged with lean muscles, making the tattoo writhe as if the dragons were alive. Goddamn, he was still so fucking hot, and Jesse didn't want to think of him that way right now.

"I do," Hanzo said flatly. "I was able to hear a little of your conversation, but not most of it. I assume that your charge did not quietly inform you that he had been wired with explosives and that if the suitcase was separated from his body they would detonate. Why would he not want your assistance with that dire situation he was in?"

Jesse cursed softly. He turned away and began to pace. It wasn't his style to think in such twisty ways, but his brain could follow at least some of the logic. Something had gone wrong with extracting the plans from the Talon base where Viktor had worked - Viktor had said that he had had to steal the plans yesterday, rather than that morning as originally planned.

And he'd been scared as hell. Truly terrified. Probably more terrified than was justified simply by a certainty that Talon agents were on his heels, but at the time Jesse had dismissed it as first-espionage-jitters.

Why wouldn't Viktor have just _told_ him that he'd been caught?

"He was being listened to," Jesse said softly, the bottom dropping out of his stomach. "They wired him up with a bug. If he'd said somethin' to me, they'd have known and blown him right away."

"That seems likely," Hanzo agreed. "I believe that he was a dead man walking from the beginning. Clearly Talon wanted to identify - and assassinate - whoever was helping him. The fact that they didn't detonate the bomb themselves suggests that they hoped to wait until a more advantageous moment. For example, after you had returned him to your employers and they attempted to take the briefcase from him. Either way, it is certain that Viktor would have been dead at the exact moment that Talon decided it was desirable that he be so."

Jesse flopped down onto the sofa and rested his elbows on his knees. "Fuck," he said, rubbing his smooth chin. He missed his beard, but he and the others had all decided he would look more the part if he was more clean-cut. Ah well, the hair would grow back soon enough.

He raised his head. Hanzo was fussing at the stove, putting on a kettle. His weapons he had left by the door, and he looked less formidable without them, though he was still dressed like some kind of samurai. Jesse missed his suit. And the way he had looked wrecked after his orgasm.

"Where's the briefcase?" Jesse asked.

"I threw it off the mountain," Hanzo said shortly. 

Jesse started. "What? Why the-- why'd you do _that_? Who the hell are you, anyway? Why'd you even come here if you ain't in Talon?" Once he'd started asking all the questions on his mind, it was like he couldn't stop. He blurted them all out in a rush, then fell silent, glaring at Hanzo's stony face.

Hanzo turned away from the stove and walked towards Jesse while Jesse sputtered. He paused, looking from the expanse of sofa next to Jesse, and then chose the chair instead. He sat in it like it was a throne, his back straight and his fingers gripping the arms. Only then did he respond.

"My identity is unimportant. I am an independent mercenary and I was hired to steal the briefcase from your charge, as my employer wished to take the plans before they could be transferred to whomever was slated to buy them - _your_ employers, I assume. I was not expecting it to be wired with explosives. As it turns out, the briefcase was merely a decoy. I threw it away after I confirmed that there were no plans nor anything of value inside."

Jesse twitched. "My 'employers' weren't tryin' to buy the plans. They wanted to keep them safe, and keep Viktor safe, and it looks as though neither of those things happened."

"Unfortunately," Hanzo said, though he frowned doubtfully. "You truly wish me to believe that your own motives are entirely innocent? Why help him if not for someone's profit?"

"You're cynical, ain't you," Jesse retorted, though the truth was, he knew exactly where Hanzo's doubts came from. There had been a time when he would have felt the same way if told the same story - in fact, he still would, if the organization in question were anyone other than Overwatch. "Well, you can believe it or not - guess it don't matter, since Viktor's dead and the plans are still in the hands of Talon so far as we know."

Hanzo nodded. "Indeed," he said gravely. He paused, then rose to his feet again. "Excuse me, I must visit the restroom."

Jesse shrugged and settled back onto the sofa. "I'll be here."

Hanzo disappeared up the stairs, and Jesse heard a door close. He sat there for several minutes while Hanzo did his business, considering his situation. If Hanzo were really a mercenary and only wanted the plans, then why help Jesse? Even if it were a set-up, why would Hanzo care? All he wanted were the plans, and Talon had those, not Jesse.

Unless he thought Jesse had hidden the real plans somehow? Jesse's memories of the morning were still hazy, but he couldn't imagine having had time to do that. Still, it did provide an explanation. Which meant that sooner or later, Hanzo would try to force Jesse to give up the goods.

Jesse got to his feet and wandered around the place. The kettle heated up, the water inside bubbling merrily. He opened the fridge and searched the discarded grocery bag, and then investigated the bow and arrows, but found no sign of his peacekeeper. What had Hanzo done with it?

The kettle began to whistle, and Jesse immediately left off his search, hurrying on quiet feet back to the sofa to resume his seat so Hanzo wouldn't know that he had been exploring. But the whistle went on annoyingly for a full minute without Hanzo emerging from upstairs.

"Hey Hanzo!" Jesse yelled. "Your kettle!" There was still no sign of him.

Cursing the piercing noise, Jesse got up and picked up the kettle, moving it off the burner. "Hanzo!" he tried again.

Then he heard a thump from upstairs.

"Shit," Jesse whispered. They'd been found by Talon, and he still didn't know where his goddamn weapon was.

Jesse picked up the kettle in one hand and pulled a large knife off the butcher block with the other. Either or both would make an excellent weapon, though he still missed his peacekeeper. 

Jesse McCree was usually the kind of guy you noticed. He was loud, dressed in bright colours, and had spurs on his big cowboy boots that jingle-jangled with every step. That was just who Jesse was. He was proud of his heritage, and didn't much care if people thought he was strange for dressing like a cowboy.

But that didn't mean it was the only way he had to be.

His boots made no noise on the wooden floor or steps as Jesse stalked upstairs. He paused every few steps to listen, but the Talon agents were good - he didn't hear a repeat of the thumping sound, and Hanzo was making no sound either. He was probably already dead, and the sound had been his body hitting the floor.

At the top of the stairs were two doors. One was standing open, and led to a bedroom. The other was closed.

Jesse peeped into the bedroom, but saw no one. He moved silently to the bathroom door and listened, but heard nothing. Where the fuck where the Talon agents?

He carefully turned the knob and opened the door.

Hanzo lay on the floor, his eyes rolled back in his head, breathing shallowly. A first aid kit lay beside him, the contents strewn across the tiles. He had apparently pulled it down with him when he fell.

He had taken off the upper part of his wraparound shirt thing, so that it hung around his hips, and his torso was completely bare. There was a bullet hole in his side, slowly leaking blood, and a bloody rag was clutched in his hand. He had apparently secured the rag to the wound with electrical tape, which still clung to it.

"Oh fuck," Jesse said, and set down both kettle and knife. "Hanzo, you goddamn idiot."


	5. Chapter 5

Hanzo swam upwards from a surprisingly restful sleep into full consciousness. He felt warm and safe, and he had to search his memory to realize why that was so strange. The last thing he remembered was removing his makeshift bandage so he could tend to his gunshot wound, when he had felt his body sway and his vision go to black. 

He cautiously opened his eyes and looked around, trying to make his memory of passing out make sense, given his surroundings.

Instead of sprawled on the floor of a bathroom, he reclined comfortably in a bed on a soft mattress, staring up at a crack in a faded yellow ceiling. In addition, he was completely naked, though covered by a down-filled duvet. Bird song floated on the air, along with the fresh scent of pines. The scent mingled with a miasma of cigar smoke. Jesse stood by the open window, smoking and looking out at the spectacular mountain view.

"Good mornin', sunshine," Jesse said wryly. He turned his head to look at Hanzo, and flicked some ash out the window before replacing the cigar between his teeth. "Though actually it's afternoon."

If Hanzo had had time to think about it before he passed out, he would not have expected to move him to a bedroom and tuck him in comfortably. The confusion rang alarm bells in a mind honed from birth to be suspicious of the motives of any person who showed him kindness.

Hanzo moved cautiously, and discovered to his surprise that he was not bound or restrained. He pushed the covers off to bare his body to the waist and inspected the bullet wound. Jesse had done a passable job of binding it up with a pressure bandage and medical tape. "I collapsed," Hanzo said, frowning faintly. "How long was I out?"

"Not too long," Jesse said. "When you collapsed, I thought you'd been attacked, but it turns out you just lost some blood."

"The pain was more than I expected," Hanzo admitted. He pushed himself up to sit, and grimaced, as his head swam. "I will be fine," he said stubbornly. "Thank you for tending to my injury. I'm surprised you did not leave." _Or tie me up._

"Well, as it happens, I decided to stay. Though you bein' passed out did give me a chance to look around some, so thanks for that," Jesse said. He grabbed a wooden chair that was sitting against a nearby desk and carried it over, setting it beside the bed and seating himself in it. The position drew the eye towards his massive belt buckle, which had four letters on it: 'BAMF'. Hanzo had no idea what it stood for. Something related to his employer, perhaps?

Oddly, the fact that Jesse was also wearing his peacekeeper was a secondary concern, though once Hanzo noticed it, he realized that it really should be a rather urgent consideration.

Hanzo pulled his gaze away from Jesse's crotch and met his eyes. "Why didn't you go?" he asked.

"I did," Jesse said. He drew on the cigar and blew out a plume of smoke. Hanzo made a face. There was a dish on the side table beside the bed, and Jesse tapped ash into it. "I got about five minutes away before I changed my mind. Decided you were too interestin' to just disappear on you. Then I thought about goin' for some better supplies, but I thought you'd probably have done that if there were anywhere to go, so I came back."

"To my knowledge, the nearest town is more than forty minutes away," Hanzo said, gazing into Jesse's eyes. His heart pounded a little faster. Jesse intended to interrogate him, that much was certain, and he was unsure of how ugly it was going to get.

Well, if Jesse thought him weak because he had been shot, then he would have a surprise. 

It was really too bad that they had to engage in this unpleasantness, rather than spending their time kissing.

"Good to know," Jesse said. He leaned forward. "How're you feelin'?"

Was that a threat? A promise that he would soon feel worse? Hanzo squared his shoulders and tried to appear unaffected. What a fool Hanzo was to have left Stormbow downstairs where the weapon was useless to him! But if it came to it, hand to hand would suffice. Hanzo had taken Jesse down once already today, and could do so again.

"You need not concern yourself with my welfare," Hanzo said firmly.

"Oh yeah? I'll keep that in mind." Jesse grinned, then he sobered. "You want to know why I really came back?"

Jesse had called him interesting. That meant he had information that Jesse wanted. But apparently that also wasn't the whole story.

So here it was, about to begin.

Hanzo wanted to fidget. He'd never been interrogated while naked before, and the blanket felt like a poor shield for his dignity. Especially since looking at Jesse's face made him recall how his lips had felt when they kissed. The sight of his mismatched hands reminded him of having them running over his skin. These thoughts did not make it easy for him to calm his mind and prepare himself to endure pain.

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't Jesse have just been a normal person, nothing but a memory for Hanzo to hold close on lonely nights after they had parted?

He steeled himself as best he could. "Why?" he asked.

"First of all, when I went out to the car, I found this." Jesse reached down to his hip holster and drew his peacekeeper. Hanzo clenched his fingers into fists, hidden under the blanket, as his heart went into overdrive. Jesse laid the gun on the side table, rather than pointing it at Hanzo, but it sat there like an accusation. A threat. It was within both of their reach, but Hanzo had no doubt if he went for it that Jesse would reach it faster and he would be dead in the next moment.

Hanzo did not move a muscle.

"Then," Jesse went on, reaching down into the corner, between the side table and the wall. "I found this."

He set the briefcase down on the bed next to Hanzo. It was singed, blackened on one side by the explosion, but completely intact. A strand of the wire that had been connected to the firing pin on the explosives strapped to Viktor's chest hung from the handle.

"Ah," Hanzo said.

"Thought you said you threw this off a mountain," Jesse said wryly.

Hanzo raised his chin defiantly. "Clearly, I lied."

Jesse's lips twisted. "Clearly. Why?"

That was not the question that Hanzo would have asked. He frowned, confused by Jesse's apparent obliviousness. "Obviously, because I wish to fulfill my contract to my employer."

"So the plans are in there after all, huh?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his chair.

Hanzo shrugged faintly. "I have not verified that. The briefcase is locked, and I am concerned that it's rigged. I will not try to open it until I have the proper tools to ensure that it is not booby-trapped, or I will leave that task to my employer."

"Fair enough," Jesse acknowledged. "'Course, you realize that it's my mission to get the plans back to _my_ employer, too. So we've got a bit of a problem, there."

Hanzo's heart gave a thump. "Yes, that had occurred to me." He turned his head fractionally and studied Jesse's face. Despite Hanzo's expectation, this interrogation was not particularly threatening. Jesse's casual tone could be disguising his true intent, though, and Hanzo expected at any moment that things could turn.

"I will not be leaving here without that case, Jesse," he said firmly. "You may do to me what you will, but I will prevail."

Jesse blinked. "Well hold your horses, there," he said, raising both hands in a quelling gesture. "Now that's a disagreement I think can wait for another time, don't you? Maybe we'll have to sort that out at some point, but I ain't in no hurry right now."

"I see." Hanzo relaxed, feeling his shoulders unknot and his fists loosen. "Then, I agree. We can leave that matter for now, and return to it on another occasion."

Both men nodded, and Hanzo thought he saw his own relief reflected in Jesse's eyes. Jesse didn't seem to relish that moment any more than Hanzo did.

"I oughta let you get some rest," Jesse said. He got to his feet, stretched until his back made an audible popping sound, and then re-holstered his peacemaker.

"No, that is not necessary," Hanzo said. He didn't feel sleepy or tired, though he was somewhat drained by the lack of blood. The discomfort of the wound was not likely to allow him to sleep, even if he'd felt like resting, which he didn't. He reached for the corner of the blanket to throw it off, then saw Jesse looking and paused, flushing. "I… I am not tired," he said. "Would you like some tea? I never finished making it."

Jesse shrugged and leaned against the door jamb, folding his arms. "I'd drink a cup. Had a Japanese guy I used to work with. He used to make it all the time, though I never saw him drink a cup himself. Developed a taste for the stuff back in the day, though my drink of choice is still a strong black coffee." He grinned. "Or a fine whiskey."

Apparently he wasn't about to leave, after all, and Hanzo was still naked under the blanket. Intellectually, he knew it didn't matter. He'd already been naked in front of this man, and Jesse had also been the one to take his clothes off this time, too, so there were no secrets.

More viscerally, Hanzo was embarrassed to show off the state of his body, which was… more than a little affected by Jesse's presence just now. And from the sparkle of mischief in Jesse's eyes, he suspected Jesse knew just what was making Hanzo hesitate.

This was a battle of wills, then.

Hanzo just had to make staying here unpleasant, which shouldn't be too difficult. Perhaps the change of subject would also calm his erection.

He set the briefcase down beside the bed, using that distraction as an opportunity to tear his eyes away from Jesse. "I had assumed that you were an independent contractor like myself," he said. "Are you part of an organization like Talon?"

"You really gonna go there, Hanzo?" Jesse asked, his tone growing sharp. "Because I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Hanzo froze. Unlike everything else Jesse had said in the last few minutes, that actually sounded like a threat. Hanzo raised his eyes to meet Jesse's gaze. "I work for whoever will pay me my fee. Who my employer happens to be right now is meaningless. I owe no loyalty to them, but my reputation rests on my discretion."

"It ain't meaningless. If you tell me who paid you to get those plans, then I know who besides Talon's got an interest in that kind of merchandise," Jesse retorted. "And if I tell you who I work for, then you'll know the same thing."

But Hanzo didn't _care_ who wanted the plans, and Jesse clearly did, but was reluctant - for some reason - to try to coerce Hanzo into telling him through violence.

Hanzo huffed and pulled back the covers, his hard on now calmed somewhat by the argument. Enough so that he didn't mind Jesse seeing it quite so much. Moving with care and trying to hide that the wound still pained him, he rose and went in search of his clothing, finding it folded and piled on a dresser in an unkempt stack. He began to dress, turning his back on Jesse. 

Then, Jesse moved suddenly towards Hanzo, and Hanzo whirled around, moving into a defensive position. Or at least, he tried to.

As he turned, pain flared in his torso, and his vision immediately blackened around the edges. He heard Jesse take a step back, giving an exclamation of surprise, and saw him raise his hands in a non-threatening gesture. But Hanzo's back hit the dresser as he swooned, and the pants he was holding slipped from his fingers, and the next thing he knew, Jesse was holding him upright, the hard bar of Jesse's metal arm supporting Hanzo's weight.

"Woah there," Jesse said soothingly. "Don't move so quick. Did I spook ya?"

Hanzo was already beginning to recover his consciousness, but he gave in to temptation anyway. His head came to rest against Jesse's chest and he couldn't help but sag a little again, enjoying the warmth and security of the feeling of Jesse's arms around him.

"I… apologize," he said, his voice muffled by Jesse's shirt. It smelled of smoke and leather and gunpowder. "I thought… it does not matter. I was wrong."

"You thought I was gonna attack you or somethin'?" Jesse asked, amused. "Well that ain't my style."

His hands came to rest at Hanzo's waist, just at the base of his spine. Hanzo's fingers tightened, balling in Jesse's shirt. The erection had flared again and he ached at Jesse's casual closeness, which Hanzo knew would lead nowhere. Jesse had had his fill of Hanzo, and now knew who Hanzo was besides. There was no chance he was interested in continuing their liaison, and any thought in that direction was nothing but foolish.

The silence drew out, until Jesse finally cleared his throat. "Anyway, I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought-- Well, it seems like you need more rest, and it ain't like we've got somewhere to be. How about I just make you some o' that tea you're wantin', and bring it to you in bed?"

Hanzo didn't want to let go. Nor did he want Jesse to think of him as weak. The thought made his gorge rise, and he spoke quickly. "No!" Hanzo said forcefully, and Jesse stiffened in surprise at his tone. Hanzo paused, flushing, and cleared his throat. "You… will not make it correctly," he said, which was also absolutely true.

Jesse chuckled. "Ah well, that's probably not wrong." His fingers began to rub gentle, maddening circles at the base of Hanzo's spine. "Well then, I guess you'll just have to get dressed and come downstairs and make it yourself," he said. "But before you can do that, you're gonna have to let go."

Jesse was teasing him. His tone was light. Mischievous. Hanzo tensed and flushed deeply with embarrassment, his fingers clenching again.

"I am not weak," he said. "It is merely a flesh wound. I over extended myself."

Jesse snorted faintly. "Is that what you think? That I think you're weak?"

Hanzo gathered his strength and lifted his head, searching Jesse's expression. Jesse gazed down at him, a wry twist to his lips. He'd set aside the cigar, which burned slowly to ash in a potted plant on the dresser next to Hanzo's clothes. "I don't think you're weak, Hanzo," Jesse said. "I'd have to be an idiot to believe that. You're a survivor, and hell - you remind me a lot of a guy I work with. I'd never make that mistake with him, and I ain't gonna make that mistake with you."

"I see," Hanzo said. His heart was beginning to speed up again. It was maddening that Jesse could have such an effect on him and Hanzo was utterly helpless against it. "Why... why did you come up behind me like that," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "That is not something one normally does to someone with my kind of training."

Jesse had the grace to look abashed, which was probably the most handsome expression Hanzo had yet seen on his face - barring the satisfied look after his orgasm. "Ah... sorry. It was a dumb thing to do. I just thought I'd give you a back rub. Your neck was all tense."

A back rub. Something lovers might do for one another.

Hanzo kissed him.

It was a foolish, impulsive thing to do. Hanzo hadn't even consciously realized he was going to do it before he had already pressed his lips to Jesse's. Still, he would not back down. Jesse would push him away momentarily, no doubt, perhaps kindly, but firmly. The moment would end and Hanzo would just pretend it had never happened.

Hanzo thought that was how it would play out, at least. He was unprepared for what really did occur.

Jesse opened his mouth to the kiss with a heartfelt groan, and his arms tightened around Hanzo enough that it made his bullet wound complain. Hanzo didn't care one bit, though, as their tongues tangled together and Jesse lifted Hanzo a few inches, tottering towards the bed.

They went down in a tangle of limbs, Jesse covering Hanzo with his body and running his fingers greedily over his skin. Hanzo pulled at Jesse's clothing impatiently, and Jesse belatedly tried to help, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his boots distractedly while he continued to kiss Hanzo's lips, his throat, and then down his chest.

"We are insane," Hanzo whispered. Jesse's lips latched onto a nipple, and Hanzo groaned, his body bucking. The pain seemed distant now, and Hanzo was thankful.

"We can make tea later," Jesse said between kisses. "If I'm insane it's because you've been drivin' me crazy, darlin'."

"I didn't… I didn't think you would want me again," Hanzo confessed.

Jesse was half naked and had his big hands on Hanzo's hips, his body sliding down to the floor between Hanzo's legs. At those words, he stopped and looked up at Hanzo with open shock. "Now why'd you think that?"

Hanzo opened his eyes and met Jesse's surprised gaze with confusion knitting his own brow. "I… you have already had me once," he said. "And then you discovered that I lied to you, and that I am an assassin."

Jesse cocked his head. "You said mercenary."

Hanzo shrugged.

Jesse climbed back onto the bed and tugged at Hanzo, encouraging him to climb further up so his legs weren't hanging off. Soon they were both lying on the bed side by side, with Jesse's arm cinched around Hanzo's waist and their faces close together. Hanzo rather liked the position, though he hoped that this didn't mean that the other pleasurable activities weren't now off the menu.

"Listen darlin'," Jesse said quietly. "You are gorgeous, and yeah you lied to me, but I lied to you, too. If I never slept with anyone who ever lied to me… well my list of lovers would get a hell of a lot shorter. Our situation might be confusin', and I ain't quite sure right now whether we'll ultimately land on different sides, but I don't see why that means we gotta be at odds right now, neither."

Hanzo considered his words for a long moment, then nodded. "There is wisdom in what you say," he said.

Jesse grinned. "Ain't no one ever called me wise, before," he teased. His fingers were beginning to draw patterns on Hanzo's skin, leaving tingles of pleasure in their wake.

Hanzo arched a brow. "Based on what little I know about you, I am not at all surprised."

Jesse laughed. "Hey now!" he protested, and Hanzo pushed himself up, setting himself to divesting Jesse of his clothing and continuing his determined exploration of Jesse's body. They whiled away at least an hour that way, touching and kissing, and driving one another to new delights, until both of them were utterly spent.

Afterwards, Hanzo lay cuddled up close to Jesse, and a thick layer of contented, pleasant feelings settled over him. He felt as though he had been lying for years in a desert, thirsting, suffering, as the vultures circled above him. Then, suddenly clear, clean water had washed over him, revitalizing him and allowing him to attend to his surroundings for the first time, and abruptly he was learning that he was not alone in a desert after all, but merely on a beach, surrounded by lush vegetation and life-giving water.

It was a poor, confused metaphor, but it captured how Hanzo felt - as if his eyes were opening for the first time, and he was seeing the sun and flowers and life all around him in a world he had thought was dead.

Since it was thanks to Jesse, Hanzo felt as though it was only fair for him to give him something he had asked for. 

"I have decided I will tell you what you want to know," Hanzo said.

Jesse paused before replying. "You mean like who you work for?" He sounded nearly as content and half-drowsing as Hanzo did, but his tone rose with interest. He did want to know.

"Yes," Hanzo said. He tightened his arm, hoping that he was not making a terrible mistake. "I was hired by a noted scientific organization in Oasis," he said, and named it.

Jesse snorted. "They're practically Talon, you know. Moira O'Deorain's head of their Science Ministry."

Hanzo frowned. Was that name supposed to mean something to him? "I do not know who that is. Nor did I know that."

"Fair 'nuff," Jesse said. "And I'm with Overwatch."

Hanzo froze, his eyes widening. His throat closed as if he'd eaten something noxious, and he was unable to breathe. There was a roaring in his ears, but his entire being was only focused on that word - that _name_. 

After Genji had come to see him in Hanamura, he had disappeared, but Hanzo had connections. He hadn't at that time been ready to follow Genji as he had requested, but Hanzo hadn't just forgotten about their encounter. In fact, he had been obsessed. He had _needed_ to know everything he could about what Genji had been doing, and had spent much of the last couple of months scouring for any hint. 

Though his records were difficult to find, some photographs of the armoured ninja Hanzo had encountered did exist. And eventually the trail had led to Overwatch. 

"Genji." Hanzo whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo was certainly a mystery. Good thing for Jesse, he turned from "stoic, stubborn, dangerous probable ninja" to "goddamn mooshball" whenever Jesse batted his eyes at him.

Also a good thing that despite having been shot at by a bow and arrow, blown up, knocked out, and thrown in the trunk of a car because of this man, Jesse could scarcely help himself from batting those eyes, because Hanzo was also a gorgeous and fascinating man.

Probably, continuing to indulge in sex with Hanzo was a Really Bad Idea. Jesse was far beyond caring.

In many ways, the second go around was better than the first. Jesse didn't even feel the need to suggest they go further than oral and touching into areas Hanzo hadn't yet experienced, since the mutual hand- and blow-jobs were more than fantastic enough on their own. Hanzo made the most amazing faces when he came, like all the weight of the world was just sloughing off of him at once. And he seemed to delight in exploring Jesse's body in return.

Jesse could definitely get used to all that enthusiasm.

And the aftermath! Hanzo went all boneless right away, though he didn't pass out again, and snuggled up close to Jesse like he was the biggest teddy bear. It was such a contrast with the stiff, formal way he carried himself all the rest of the time. 

Maybe it was because this was his first time. But Jesse couldn't exactly throw stones. While he was far from a virgin, he hadn't had much other than his own right hand to comfort himself over the last seven years, so the cuddling and sex was very welcome to him, too.

He dragged the blankets over them both and drew Hanzo even closer, tucking the shorter man's head under his chin. Hanzo sighed contentedly.

"I have decided I will tell you what you want to know," Hanzo rumbled. He seemed half asleep, and his accent had gotten thicker, but Jesse had no trouble understanding him.

Jesse arched a brow, the comment rousing him from his own contented drowsing. "You mean like who you work for?"

"Yes," Hanzo said. His arm squeezed Jesse around the waist. "I was hired by a noted scientific organization in Oasis," he said, and named it.

Jesse snorted. He had heard of them. "They're practically Talon, you know. Moira O'Deorain's head of the Science Ministry in Oasis."

Hanzo lifted his head, blinking his dark eyes up at Jesse with a frown. "I do not know who that is. Nor did I know that when I took the contract."

"Fair 'nuff," Jesse said. It was true that he couldn't hold that kind of thing against Hanzo. Mercenaries generally didn't choose who they worked with for ideological reasons, but for who could pay their fees, and Jesse couldn't exactly claim to be morally superior anyway. At least now he knew, and it was only fair that he return the gesture. "And I'm with Overwatch."

And now would come the inevitable questions - after all, Overwatch didn't exist anymore, right?

But Hanzo froze, his eyes widening. For a moment, it seemed as though he was trying to speak, but was unable to do so, his lips moving and no sound coming out.

Then finally, Jesse caught the word that he said, " _Genji_."

Jesse stiffened. He'd been trying not to think about it, but it had seemed more and more likely that Hanzo was in fact the brother of his comrade in arms. Now, Hanzo had all but admitted it.

 _Damn. That complicates things,_ Jesse thought. He thought quickly, as Hanzo gazed into the middle distance, a look of horror on his face. If Hanzo knew the connection between Genji and Overwatch, then he likely already knew Genji was alive. There was no point in pretending like he didn't know who Genji was.He drew a breath and let it out in a sincere groan. "So you really are Hanzo Shimada."

Hanzo blinked, as if Jesse's words had brought his soul back into his body and he was noticing Jesse again for the first time. "You knew?" he asked. The phrase was very nearly an accusation.

"No, babe," Jesse said. "Hell, I didn't know you from Adam when we first met. When you introduced yourself, I thought it was a coincidence that your name was the same as Genji's brother. I didn't know your last name and I didn't think it mattered. For all I know, Hanzo's real common in Japan."

Hanzo's fingers tightened on Jesse's body and began to shake. Though he didn't pull away, his body vibrated. He was nervous as a deer in a trap, yet clinging to Jesse like a lifeline. This wasn't at all how Jesse might have expected him to respond - not the monster who had tried to murder Genji.He sounded almost like a desperate child. "You... you know my brother," he breathed. "Do you work closely with him in Overwatch?"

Jesse shifted uncomfortably. Hanzo wasn't giving off a vibe like he was inclined to take the information Jesse gave him and go off to finish what he'd started, but he wasn't quite sure _why_ Hanzo was reacting this way. Was this real? What was his angle? Did he have an angle? Jesse was starting to feel like this conversation wasn't his place to have.

But he was locked in for now, and the answer to Hanzo's question still didn't seem to lead anywhere dangerous for Genji. So, he nodded. "Genji and I worked together on the same team in Blackwatch." He had to presume that if Hanzo knew about Genji working for Overwatch, that he knew about Blackwatch as well. After all, the originally secret group ended up getting splashed all over the papers in a number of not-so-good contexts. "I ain't seen Genji in seven years, though," he warned. "I don't know where he is."

That wasn't precisely true, but... kinda. Though it was accurate to say that he hadn't _seen_ Genji in all that time, he had heard from Winston that Genji, too, had answered the recall. Jesse hadn't gone to any of the Overwatch bases as of yet - after liberating Echo from her imprisonment, he had gone on a few other missions before this one. This was supposed to be the last one before he finally came in. But regardless, while Jesse hadn't talked to Genji in all that time or seen him, he probably could track him down through Winston, if Genji wasn't actually back at Gibraltar right now. So technically, he _didn't_ know where Genji was, but he could make a damn good guess.

He wasn't about to tell Hanzo that, though.

Hanzo nodded. "I see," he said, and lowered his gaze. "Thank you for answering my questions."

And that, apparently, was that. Hanzo slipped from the bed and walked to the dresser, leaving Jesse lying there stunned. Hanzo dressed quickly, with precise movements, and just as Jesse sat up and called after him, "Hey Han--" he had already walked out the door and shut it behind him, leaving Jesse alone.

Jesse sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "Well...fuck me. What the hell was that about?"

~ ~ ~

Hanzo walked downstairs and put the kettle on, scarcely aware that he was doing it. He hadn't meant to just disappear on Jesse and didn't even realize that his actions might be seen that way. He was just so completely absorbed in his own thoughts that he was unaware of his surroundings or any other considerations.

In short, he was far too busy cursing himself for a fool.

In the photograph of Genji that he'd found, there had been another man standing near him. A man in a cowboy hat and boots. The man hadn't had a metal arm, and had had facial hair, and his face hadn't been completely visible in the fuzzy, poor-quality photograph. But now that he had heard Jesse say so in his own words, Hanzo could barely believe he hadn't recognized him before now. Jesse knew Genji, had worked with him.

Surely, Jesse hated him.

The fact that Genji was still alive was a reality that Hanzo had only tenuously begun to grasp and incorporate into his worldview. Now there was a man in close proximity who had known Genji was alive all this time, who knew who Hanzo was and what he had done. A man who could answer the questions that burned in Hanzo's breast about what Genji had been doing and _how_ he was doing. Answers were closer than Hanzo had ever thought possible, if Hanzo only dared to ask - and Jesse was willing to respond.

Hanzo couldn't even begin to contemplate how that conversation would go. Still moving on auto-pilot, Hanzo poured hot water over the leaves and finally prepared his tea, taking refuge in the simple, habitual movements.

He heard a soft footstep behind him and lifted his cup, holding it in both hands as if to warm them. "Do you want me to pour you a cup--" 

He paused as his eyes fell on the man in his living room. It wasn't Jesse.

The man was dressed in a simple black outfit, his face covered by a piece of cloth and a knife held in one hand. He held the knife as if he knew how to use it, as if he had chosen the knife for its silence in killing.

The man was nearly as surprised as Hanzo when Hanzo turned around at exactly the right moment to catch him sneaking up on him. Both stood still for a fraction of a second, but it was the assassin who moved first. He lunged for Hanzo, knife outstretched.

Hanzo chose to dodge to the side and grab the knife hand with his own. At the same moment, he threw the hot tea into the assassin's face.

The knife sliced shallowly into Hanzo's palm before Hanzo could get his fingers around the attacker's wrist. The assassin shrieked in pain, blinded by the boiling hot water, and Hanzo didn't give him any time to recover. 

Distantly, as Hanzo broke the man's wrist, seized the knife, and plunged it into the attacker's heart, he thought perhaps he should have kept him alive for questioning. But no, Talon had already shown themselves to be merciless and brutal, and Hanzo was unarmed. This was the correct choice, and it was made on instinct before his thinking mind even had time to consider it.

The body dropped to lie at Hanzo's feet, a pool of blood spreading from his chest.

"Hanzo?" Feet pounded on the stairs and Jesse skidded to a stop on the wooden floor, his gun out and panning around. "I heard a scream," he said, before his eyes fell on the body. "Who's that?"

"The man who screamed," Hanzo said. "You should put some clothes on, Jesse. We will need to leave immediately. He cannot be alone."

Jesse was, indeed, completely naked. He looked Hanzo up and down, eyes still wide with the shot of adrenaline. "You all right?" Jesse asked.

It was a surprising question. Hanzo had won the battle. But then Hanzo glanced down at himself and realized that blood was still dripping from his hand, and a considerable amount had gotten on his clothing as well. He grimaced.

"I am fine. I will bandage my hand while you drive," he said. "Most of this is not mine."

"Gotcha." Jesse nodded, turned, and trotted up the stairs. He was indeed agreeably professional, when it counted.

Hanzo regretfully set down his empty tea cup and quickly looted the body of the assassin. He pocketed the knife, and was not surprised to find that the man had no identifying items on him. He was wearing plain clothing with no insignia, just like the people who had invaded the hotel. Hanzo had no doubt that he was from Talon. 

He retrieved Stormbow and buckled his quiver on, and was about to go upstairs when he met Jesse coming down, fully dressed and carrying the briefcase and first aid kit. "You need anythin' else, darlin'?"

 _Darling?_ Hanzo's throat closed slightly, but he managed to speak, his tone coming out even more gruff than before. "Nothing worth our lives. This man is unlikely to be the only one. He is probably merely a scout." He glanced disdainfully at the dead man. "He believed he was presented with an opportunity, but was mistaken."Even as he said it, though, he knew that he had come very close. Hanzo had been so preoccupied that he hadn't even noticed the man until he was nearly upon him. Sloppy.

Jesse nodded. He moved to the front door, but peeped through the curtain, standing to one side so that he wouldn't become visible if there was anyone outside. "You have it right," he said. "Take a look."

Hanzo moved to another window and gazed through the tiny gap in the curtains. Indeed, there were four more people dressed in black, standing by a black sedan with tinted windows. One of them was speaking into a cellphone, and they were all looking towards the house with expressions of concern. One of them lay prone on top of the vehicle, a sniper rifle covering the door. They would be almost impossible to dislodge without revealing themselves or getting shot.

"What's our play?" Jesse asked, drawing his peacekeeper. "I figure we don't have much time before they start to wonder what happened to their buddy and come for him."

"I agree," Hanzo said, drawing back from the window. 

The location of this chalet left much to be desired for a quick escape, and now Hanzo was cursing his choice. When he'd arranged it as a fallback location, it had been attractive for its isolation. He had figured that if something did happen and he found himself boxed in by pursuing enemies, he could go out the back and free climb down the cliff face, but Jesse would struggle with that route. With his injured hand, even Hanzo would be reluctant to try rappelling, even if he were alone. It would be impossible for him to do it while carrying Jesse.

"We have little choice except for a frontal assault," Hanzo said. "We cannot leave via the back way."

Jesse blinked, frowned and looked towards the back of the house, then blanched. "Yeah, I ain't goin' that way. So the front it is." He paused and looked at Hanzo with curiosity. "Say, do you have one of those spirit dragon thingies, like Genji?"

Hanzo felt a rushing in his ears at the casual mention not only of his brother, but of his family's most tightly guarded secret. Yet another confirmation of just how close Jesse and Genji had been. "Yes," he said reluctantly, his voice rasping. "Yes, I can summon the dragon."

Jesse grinned with relief. "Think you might be able to rustle one up today?"

Summoning his dragons required a particular combination of adrenaline and focus. It was not something one could merely do on a whim. Yet more confirmation of how well Jesse knew Genji. 

Hanzo nodded. "I will manage. I will need to confront them directly, and it would be best if they are corralled to a location where it will be difficult for them to escape, or at least that they be distracted."

"I think I can manage." Jesse holstered his gun, turned, and headed for the door.

"Wait! Jesse what are you doing?" Hanzo asked, as Jesse turned the knob and pulled the door open. 

"Creating a distraction," Jesse said. He glanced back at Hanzo and gave him a wink, then stepped forward out of the door, holding the case out in front of him with both hands.

Hanzo watched in horror as the sniper lined up his shot and the other Talon agents quickly drew their weapons. Jesse stood on the front porch, using the case as a shield, and grinned at them.

"You boys lookin' for this?" he asked, indicating the case with a jerk of his chin.

"Put the case down and step away!" the leader of the agents shouted. "Then get down on the ground with your hands on your head. If you do this, you will not be harmed."

"All right, all right," Jesse said. "I'm sure you're all reasonable folks who won't put a bullet in my brainpan the instant I let go of this thing."

Hanzo readied Stormbow and nocked an arrow. His hands were shaking slightly as he stared at Jesse's back. From this vantage point, the Talon agents shouldn't be able to tell that Hanzo was there, and this would provide him with the necessary element of surprise, but did Jesse expect him to shoot _through_ him? 

An image of Jesse broken, his body scarred and destroyed just like Genji's had been, flashed through Hanzo's mind. His breathing sped up and his hands began to shake even more badly.

"Put down the case!" the leader snarled. "Put it down now or we will shoot!"

Jesse wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? He had to get out of the way!

"Now, Hanzo," Jesse said.

_No! I cannot!_

"You have five seconds!" yelled the Talon leader.

"Hanzo!"

"Get out of the way, Jesse!" Hanzo pleaded.

Jesse dropped the case. It landed on the patio with a bang as loud as a gunshot. In the instant that the case was in the air, Jesse drew his peacekeeper and fanned the hammer, firing six shots in rapid succession. Blood sprayed the side of the car as bodies slumped against it. 

Jesse rolled to the side as the sniper fired, a bullet whizzing through the place where he had been and blowing a rather large hole in the floor just inside the doorway. 

Hanzo steadied himself and loosed his arrow. He didn't bother to try to call on the dragon, but instead called upon the storm inside him as he stepped forward, firing several shots in rapid succession. Arrows zipped through the air, the first one shattering the sniper's scope, and the second cutting a furrow through his hairline. The sniper rolled backwards off the car to get away, and Hanzo leaped forward in pursuit. 

There was one other Talon member still alive. He had taken shelter behind Jesse's car and was exchanging pot shots with Jesse, who was using the side of the house for cover. Hanzo leaped recklessly over and through the line of fire and reached for the enemy's sedan, pulling himself up on top of the vehicle. The sniper was running, blood flowing freely from a deep cut in his scalp, trying to cross the open territory of the road and disappear into the trees.

Hanzo shot him in the back. He fell in the middle of the road, the fletching pointing towards the sky and the useless sniper rifle clattering to the pavement.

Hanzo turned, nocking another arrow, and saw that the battle was over. Jesse had felled the remaining him while Hanzo pursued the sniper.

Jesse got to his feet, reloading his peacekeeper with a flick of his wrist. "Well, that could've gone better," he said, looking around at the dead men. "What the hell happened? I thought you were gonna use your dragon. I thought for a second you weren't gonna do anything."

"You appeared to be handling the situation on your own," Hanzo said stiffly, turning his face away. How could he admit that he'd had a panic attack? The shame threatened to choke him, and it was easier to deal with Jesse's anger.

The cowboy indeed was glaring at him, metal fist clenched, and Hanzo braced himself for a rebuke. But instead, Jesse just turned away. "C'mon, let's just get outta here before they send more guys."

"Yes," Hanzo said softly. 

They retrieved the case and Jesse got into the driver's seat. Hanzo sat next to him, bandaging his hand and gazing out the passenger side window without seeing anything, as they left the chalet behind.


	7. Chapter 7

As he drove, Jesse gripped the steering wheel hard enough that it creaked slightly under the grip of his prosthetic left hand. He'd been in a lot of scrims in his life - a lot of messy fire fights. He'd faced down hundreds of people who meant him nothing good. Sometimes, he had done so alone, but when he'd done it with someone watching his back, he had always known that that person _had_ his back. And in all the years he'd run with Ashe and the Deadlock Gang, and then later in Overwatch, he had never been so disappointed as he was right now.

Hanzo had hung him out to dry, and when Jesse called him on it, he'd simply acted like nothing had happened.

What the _fuck_ was that about?

The moment to have it out with Hanzo wasn't right now, though. He was driving a twisting mountain road, and there was no telling whether Talon would attack again. They needed to get right off the grid, and lay low until the dropship came to pick them up. So the time to deal with their shit was later, when they weren't being actively pursued. Now, there was a more urgent problem.

"I got an idea of how they tracked us," Jesse said tightly.

Hanzo glanced at him briefly, and then returned to his walleyed stare out the passenger side window. "As do I."

"The case is probably bugged," Jesse persisted.

"Yes," Hanzo agreed with a curt nod. "It almost certainly is."

There was a pause while Jesse recklessly swung out into the other side of the road to pass a hoverbike with an octogenarian driving it, the rear of the bike piled high with shopping bags.

"But we're just gonna keep on drivin' with that albatross around our necks?" Jesse asked.

Hanzo looked at him. "What do you propose we do?"

Jesse drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Look, it seems to me we got two options. We can either keep drivin' around like idiots, tryin' to keep ahead of these assholes - who will know exactly where we are at all times - or we do what you _said_ you did before, and pitch it off a cliff."

"Those are two options," Hanzo said slowly. "But they are not the only options. We should not take either one, in my opinion."

Jesse shot him a glare. Hanzo's stony expression was irritating as hell - still handsome, but irritating. What the hell was he talking about? "I know what you wanna do, Hanzo. You want to take it back to your employer - _who is Talon_. So why should I let you do that?"

"Technically, I don't believe you can stop me," Hanzo said. "Unless you kill me. However--"

"You think I can't do that?" Jesse demanded, his voice rising in both volume and tone. "I've killed a lotta people more handsome and charming than you are, Shimada."

Hanzo's expression was growing continuously more stormy as this conversation went on. "I can understand why you might wish to kill me, but to do so would be immoral in the extreme."

"Oh yeah?" Jesse challenged. Seriously, an assassin was lecturing him about the immorality of murder? "Why should that stop me this time?"

"Because, my life and the taking thereof properly belongs to your comrade Genji, and he has forgiven me for my crimes."

Jesse's tongue froze in his mouth. After a few seconds, he realized that he was drifting towards the centre line and pulled the car back towards the middle of his lane, returning his gaze to the road for several minutes while he considered that.

"There's about six things that are fucked up about what you just said," Jesse said finally.

"You do not believe that Genji forgave me for my crimes?" Hanzo asked. His voice was shaking again, and despite everything, it made Jesse's heart hurt a little. "I would not blame you for disbelieving it, but that is what he told me, two weeks ago."

Frankly, that was a stunner, but the only way Jesse could verify that was by asking Genji himself, so that would have to wait until later. Besides, as surprising as it was, he couldn't bring himself to doubt Hanzo about this - Hanzo himself seemed too shocked by it to be lying. 

"You saw Genji two weeks ago?" Jesse asked instead.

"Yes," Hanzo said softly. He was staring out the window again, his back ramrod straight and his hands clenched so tightly that Jesse saw blood seeping from between his fingers, reddening the bandage. "I went to Hanamura, as I do every year on the anniversary of his death, to honour him, and there he was. I didn't recognize him at first but I... I knew his dragon. He told me that he wanted me to join him, and then he disappeared. Later, I looked for him, armed with the knowledge of what he looks like now, and I discovered that he had been in Blackwatch - with you."

Jesse could think of nothing to say to all of that. Hanzo had been mourning Genji's death all this time? Genji had decided to forgive him? None of this jived with the Hanzo that Genji had described, years ago when they were all younger and more naive and Genji was still reeling from his injury. 

But this Hanzo? The quiet, awkward, and intense man Jesse had just met? It all made sense.

Jesse drove in silence for fifteen minutes before he spoke again, and Hanzo said nothing and scarcely even moved that entire time. "Look," he said softly, the word escaping on a sigh. "I don't wanna kill you, Hanzo. Even if Genji hadn't forgiven ya, then that'd still be true." 

Hanzo shot him a disbelieving look, but continued his silence.

Jesse sighed again. "But all that doesn't change anything. We gotta decide what to do about the case, hopefully without any more threats of murder, or anyone dyin'."

Hanzo hesitated, but finally spoke. "So long as we have the case, Talon will continue to chase us, and we cannot abandon the case, or Talon will simply retrieve it."

Jesse gritted his teeth. "Yeah... but if I let you go back to your bosses with the case, Talon'll get it, too."

"True," Hanzo said. "The correct thing to do is to ensure that the plans are safe from Talon, above all."

Jesse shot Hanzo a shocked look. Hanzo was going to help him get the plans back to Overwatch? He decided not to question his motives right now. "Well how do we do that if they can follow us anywhere we go?"

"We must neutralize their ability to track us," Hanzo said.

"And how do we do that?" Jesse demanded.

Hanzo glanced out the window again. "Follow my directions. I have an idea."

~ ~ ~

Hanzo was feeling very... shaky. His chest was sore, and he suspected it was because of the panic attack. Jesse was clearly still angry with him, and Hanzo was quite sure that their relationship had been irreparably damaged by now. The list of things he wanted to avoid talking about with Jesse was as long as his arm, and Genji was at the very top of it, yet his spiritual presence lay over them like a smothering blanket, making it difficult for Hanzo to breathe. 

But it helped to focus on a dangerous and questionable task.

Hanzo drew upon his recall of the layout of the small suburban community at the base of the mountain, and directed Jesse's turns until they pulled into the parking lot of a shopping complex and stopped in front of the attached grocery store.

"We're here," he said. 

Jesse put the car in park and then stared at Hanzo. "What, did you forget a carton of milk?"

"No," Hanzo said. "I am lactose intolerant." He got out of the car and opened the trunk, then riffled through Jesse's dufflebag. 

Jesse followed him and stood a few feet away, his thumbs hooked in his belt. He lit up a smoke and stuck the cigar between his teeth. "What're you doing?"

"I need a change of clothes, and all of my belongings are still at the hotel." Hanzo pulled out a blue flannel shirt and considered it uncertainly. There didn't seem to be any other options. "Cover me, please, while I change."

Jesse arched a brow and stepped closer, standing between Hanzo and most of the people who would be passing by, while Hanzo pulled his bloodied shirt off and put on Jesse's. The shirt was softer than he expected, and it smelled of Jesse's cigar smoke. His heart began to pound harder for a completely different reason. 

Hanzo shut the trunk and turned to Jesse. "Please wait here. I will not be long."

Jesse frowned and pulled the cigar out of his mouth, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You want me to wait here?"

"Yes. Please."

There was a short silence. They were standing in a suburban French parking lot, surrounded by small cars and families with their children, but for a moment Hanzo almost saw a tumbleweed rolling by as they engaged in the standoff.

After a few seconds, Hanzo sighed. "Jesse, this vehicle contains all of our resources, everything that we retrieved from the hotel. It has the case itself, which I would prefer not to bring any closer to crowds of innocent people than this, as it may still be rigged with more explosives." He drew a breath and gritted his teeth. "Finally, this vehicle has my bow in it, which is the only belonging of mine which I value. Please stand guard while I go shopping for supplies."

Jesse blinked, then put the cigar between his teeth again and lowered his head, tugging down the brim of his hat. "Well, when you put it that way. All right, I'll be waitin' right here."

Hanzo nodded jerkily and turned away, walking into the store. 

He ended up having to go further afield than he originally expected to find the things he needed. Every minute, he was conscious of the passage of time. How long would it take for Talon to realize that the strike team had been killed? Did they already know? How close were reinforcements? How close were their pursuers at this point?

The thought of a firefight in the middle of this place was not a pleasant one. Hanzo wanted to get away from here as soon as possible.

Finally, he had everything he needed and he hurried back. As he emerged through the automatic sliding doors, Hanzo scanned the parking lot for any threats, but saw nothing. The scene was, thankfully, idyllic and quiet. Relieved, placed the large plastic bin containing the shopping bags into the trunk, then joined Jesse.

Jesse was in the driver's seat, the window rolled down, smoking his cigar. He looked over at Hanzo quizzically as he got into the car. "Found what you were lookin' for?"

"Thankfully, yes," Hanzo said.

Jesse put the car into gear. "Glad to hear it. Where we headed next?"

"I don't know," Hanzo confessed. "I only scouted one safehouse, which is now impossible to return to. We need somewhere safe, and preferably minimize our exposure to civilians. Any suggestions you have are welcome."

Jesse merged with traffic and headed back the way they'd come. "After we find that place, we're going to do something about the tracker, and then leave?"

"That is my intention."

"How long's it gonna take?"

Hanzo cocked his head, considering the question. "Less than five minutes, once we begin."

"I got an idea, then."

Jesse turned down a side street, and began messing with the GPS screen on the console. Hanzo blinked when he saw where Jesse was navigating to.

"Are you sure you want to go to a police station? We are both outlaws."

Jesse grinned fiercely. "You said it wouldn't take long, and even Talon's gotta hesitate before sending a strike team to attack us right outside a building full of armed police."

Hanzo arched a brow at the look on Jesse's face. "You have a point."


	8. Chapter 8

As Jesse pulled into the parking lot of the main police headquarters, he kept his hat low over his face and hoped that Hanzo's face wasn't as recognizable as he was. Hanzo seemed unconcerned, which was probably a good sign. 

Despite his earlier bravado, he pulled into a spot as far from the building as he could. He hoped the deterrent factor of the police station was broad enough that it would deter Talon, and this way hopefully he and Hanzo would remain unnoticed and off of any cameras.

Hanzo got out of the car and rummaged in the trunk, and once again Jesse felt like he was just following along with the Hanzo show. Jesse was finally calmed down enough from his earlier anger to notice that the Japanese man had become completely closed off and closed-mouthed since this morning.

"You gonna tell me what the plan is?" he asked, his drawl hiding his real irritation at being left in the dark.

"In a few moments, you will see," Hanzo said. He pulled a big plastic tub out of the trunk and opened the lid, then removed a couple of plastic shopping bags from it. 

Two whole grocery bags had only ice inside. "Help me fill the tub with the ice, please," Hanzo said. "The cold will interfere with any electronics that might be in the bag. 

"Alrighty," Jesse said, and ripped open the first bag. Several sacks of grocery store ice and a box of table salt went into the tub, and then Hanzo packed the briefcase into the tub with the handle facing up.

Then he pulled out a can of liquid nitrogen with a long nozzle. Jesse watched as he pushed the nozzle of the container into the lock of the case and pressed the trigger. 

"This will disable the locks and any wires that are connected directly to them," Hanzo said as he did the same on the other side. "We should be able to open the case slightly without triggering the explosives."

"Right, pretty sure it'll be the case that's rigged, not the plans themselves," Jesse said optimistically. "Here's hopin' we can get at the plans without blowing ourselves up."

Hanzo nodded in response, without looking up from his task.

He had also purchased a small hammer. This, he used to pry off the locks and open the case an inch. He shone a small flashlight inside and saw the shine of the casing of a tiny flash drive seated in foam inside. There was also a much larger and more ominous-looking device, with a small block of chemical explosive attached to it. The tiny threads of wires criss-crossed the inside of the case and wrapped around the drive, all of them covered with a rime of frost.

"I see the drive," Hanzo said. "But the case is rigged as we surmised. Please hand me the last bottle?"

Jesse picked up the requested item, a small bottle made of dark brown glass with a bright yellow label. He couldn't read the French on the label, but as he handed it off to Hanzo, he noticed the skull and crossbones and other labels on it.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Nearly pure sulfuric acid," Hanzo said, and twisted the cap off. "Please stand clear." 

Before Jesse could say anything, Hanzo poured the entire contents of the bottle into the case. He then dropped the empty bottle into the ice, closed the case and retreated from it.

Smoke began to rise from inside the case, worming its way through the cracks.

Jesse backed up, his eyes wide. "What the fuck did you just do? Is the drive gonna be okay?"

"Hopefully not," Hanzo said crisply, watching as the acid ate through the interior of the case and holes began to open up in the sides. "It should be safe enough for disposal shortly. The melting ice will dilute any acid that leaks out of the case, but the drive itself, along with the explosive device, should be rendered inoperable."

Jesse stared at Hanzo, rage rising up. He lunged forward and grabbed Hanzo by the collar. The Japanese man was shorter than he was, but it was still an effort to pull him up off his feet. He shouldn't have even been able to do it at all without Hanzo suplexing him or something, but somehow in the next moment Hanzo was off the ground, back pressed to the side of their car, and Jesse's metal fist inches from his nose.

"Why'd you do that?" he demanded. "You coulda _said_! You lied to me - _again_!"

Hanzo stared up at the fist with expectation, like he was almost surprised Jesse hadn't smashed his nose into a pancake yet. "You said you wanted the drive to be rendered safe from Talon. Overwatch doesn't need a weapon of that magnitude. What matters is that the plans do not fall into the hands of anyone who would misuse it. If the drive existed, then I would be honour-bound to attempt to return it to my employer. After all, if I simply refuse to carry out my mission, I will likely never work again. Both of us can walk away from this situation knowing that Talon does not have the plans, and can never retrieve them."

The worst part was, in the most fucked up, roundabout, _mental_ way - he was right.

"Why isn't Genji so goddamn screwed up like you?" Jesse asked, releasing Hanzo's collar and taking a step back. "He doesn't talk about honour like that. Not like _that_."

Hanzo frowned and adjusted his collar. He looked distinctly surprised to still be breathing. "Like what?"

"Like..." Jesse flailed, struggling for words. "Like it's a prison you put yourself into."

Hanzo stared at him.

Jesse didn't have the words to try to explain it better than that right now. And besides, he saw three police officers come pelting out of the building, probably having noticed the two large men fighting in their parking lot. "Let's get the fuck outta here," he muttered, and wrenched the door to the car open.

Hanzo joined him without another word, and they left the parking lot - and the tub full of explosives - behind as quickly as they could.

~ ~ ~

Hanzo wouldn't have intentionally inflicted his presence on Jesse any longer than that, but both of them reacted thoughtlessly when they saw the officers heading in their direction. Jesse ordered him into the car - obviously more out of reflex than because he wanted to continue associating with Hanzo. Before he had had time to think better of his own actions, Hanzo had already gotten into the car and it was in motion.

They drove for several minutes in an oppressive silence.

"If you wish to drop me somewhere..." Hanzo said slowly.

Jesse's fingers were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. "Oh hell no," he said grimly. "We've got a conversation to finish."

Hanzo frowned and fell silent, unsure of what Jesse meant. When Jesse had attacked him, Hanzo had allowed it, and done nothing to defend himself. He knew that from Jesse's perspective he deserved the blow, and on some level he almost welcomed it. But Jesse had spared him - perhaps for a more thorough beating later, but Hanzo doubted it. The initial attack had been in the heat of realization. Something else was on Jesse's mind now, and Hanzo had no idea what it was.

Eventually, it occurred to Hanzo that this might be his only opportunity to say the one thing that might redeem himself, if only slightly.

"Jesse," Hanzo said softly. "I owe you an apology. Back at the cottage, when I was supposed to summon my dragon, I could not bring myself to do it."

Jesse twitched when Hanzo first said his name, but glanced at him with a frown as he went on. "What're you talking about?"

Hanzo swallowed. "My dragon... it is not like Genji's," he said. "If I had summoned my dragon from where I was standing with respect to you, it would have struck you as well. I could not bear to take that risk."

There were a few moments of silence as Jesse gazed out at the road ahead. "I thought you left me there high and dry," he said softly. "Couldn't figure out why you'd do that."

"I did," Hanzo said, shame in every syllable. 

Jesse continued to drive for a few more minutes, gazing out at the road without giving a response. Hanzo, thinking the conversation was over, stared out the window at nothing. It had been pleasant, working with Jesse, doing things that were beyond the simple necessities of survival. Until now, Hanzo hadn't realized just how isolated he had become, how truly unused he was to relying on anyone other than himself, and how little time or attention he paid to comfort or pleasure in his own life.

It was going to be extremely difficult to pick up where he left off, returning to living that way again. The thought filled him with a crushing despair that was like a physical weight, pressing down upon him.

The car abruptly shifted towards the side of the road and stopped.

Hanzo blinked and looked around. They were on a side street, a quiet residential road. He scrutinized the house next to them, but saw nothing to distinguish it from any other. People moved inside, silhouetted against their curtains.

"Hanzo, look at me," Jesse said. His voice was... tired, reluctant. Hanzo turned his head with equal reluctance to look at the other man.

Jesse searched his expression and then removed a hand from the steering wheel. He reached out and - to Hanzo's shock - rested it on his shoulder. The hand moved gently up to the back of Hanzo's neck and toyed with the short hairs there. Hanzo sat frozen, completely confused and unable to interpret what Jesse was doing.

"Why didn't you just yell for me to get outta the way?" Jesse asked. "I've been sittin' here pissed off at you."

Hanzo blinked at Jesse in confusion. Didn't he understand? Why was he being so kind? "I... I froze," he admitted, shame in every syllable. "I was unable to say anything, or do anything. It is unacceptable. I endangered you, and I failed us both with my weakness. For that alone, you should not want me to be anywhere near you."

Jesse just snorted and shook his head. "That kinda thing can happen to anyone, darlin'. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that you're far from weak."

Hanzo opened his mouth to protest, but could think of nothing that might persuade Jesse of reality. He subsided instead, baffled, and said nothing. Jesse went on caressing him for several minutes before returning his hand to the steering wheel and driving on. 

Hanzo missed the touch fiercely when it was gone.

Presently, Hanzo realized that Jesse was driving towards the coast, back in the general direction of the hotel. "Where are we going?" he asked softly.

Jesse shrugged. "You'll see."

Eventually, he drove the car into the underground garage of the hotel where they had first met. It bemused Hanzo that they had come full circle, but it also worried him immensely. They had fled this place only that morning, why were they back? 

The hotel showed no sign of the explosion and fire from the day before. While it had been a large enough blast to destroy a room, the hotel had clearly managed to do damage control and the fire had been contained to a single floor. The hotel was still very much open for business.

Jesse parked the car and tossed the keys into the foot well, then got out. "Leave it unlocked. Take everything," he ordered.

Hanzo followed his instructions without voicing any of his questions or concerns, gathering up his bow and quiver while Jesse retrieved his duffel bag from the trunk. Clearly they were not planning on returning to this vehicle, as Jesse seemed to be intending for it to be stolen. So how were they going to leave the hotel? 

Surely Jesse wasn't stupid enough to come back here without a very good reason. Also, why was he still acting like he wanted Hanzo with him?

They got into the elevator. When Jesse pressed a button, it dawned on Hanzo where they were going. "My room?" he asked.

"I figure Talon won't be expecting us to go there," Jesse said wryly. "And if I'm the target, then they won't know to watch your room. No one alive saw you."

Hanzo considered that for several seconds as the elevator climbed towards his floor. "One of the cleaning staff of this hotel saw me with you before we left," he said. "But she is unlikely to be a Talon mole."

"We'd better hope not," Jesse said.

The elevator doors opened and Hanzo took the lead this time, pulling his room key out of his pocket and keying them back into the room. It hadn't been made up yet, but one could scarcely tell. The bedding was as smooth as if he and Jesse had never slept in it. It felt like a week ago that he had met Jesse in the bar below rather than just last night.

Jesse looked around and then glanced at Hanzo quizzically. "Did you...make the bed?"

"Of course," Hanzo said, staring. "I am not an animal."

Jesse rubbed his face, then shook his head. He hung the 'do not disturb' hanger on the doorknob, then shut the door again and latched it. 

Then he turned on Hanzo, his eyes narrowed. "All right, I've got some things I gotta say."

Hanzo nodded, and braced himself, but Jesse merely paced for several seconds. He paused a few times and looked as though he was going to speak, but then shook his head and returned to pacing. 

"Jesse," Hanzo said finally. "You do not have to say anything. I betrayed your trust, more than once, and you are right to hate me. What I do not understand is why you didn't simply leave me to my own devices - we are finished now, are we not? The plans have been destroyed. Viktor is dead. You can return to Overwatch, and I--"

"You think you can just run now?" Jesse demanded. He had stopped and turned on Hanzo, his expression thunderous. "After all of this? You're just gonna what - go back to being a piece of shit assassin workin' for hire?"

Hanzo blinked and didn't quite know what to say to that. "What else would I do?"

Jesse gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, then abruptly he relaxed. He took off his hat and dropped it on the dresser, then reached up and ran his hand through his unruly hair, disarranging it even further. "Just tell me... why didn't you tell me the truth about what you were plannin' to do with the drive?"

Hanzo could only be honest, though it seemed to him like the answer should be obvious. "Because I feared you would stop me," he said.

"Why'd you think I'd do that?" Jesse asked. "Which is it - do you think I'm too dumb, or too incompetent to understand why you did it?" His eyes were more solemn than Hanzo had ever seen them, and abruptly Hanzo realized - Jesse was _hurt_. 

"No, neither of those, I... I have no excuse," Hanzo said humbly, and he bowed from the waist. "I suppose that I have been working on my own so long that it never occurred to me to consult you. I felt it had to be done, and I should have considered that you are also a skilled and experienced agent in your own right. I should have trusted you to understand and agree."

Jesse's hands closed gently around Hanzo's shoulders and then drew him into a hug. The move was startling, but Hanzo breathed out deliberately and relaxed into Jesse, his cheek resting against the other man's chest. He heard Jesse's heart beating strongly under his ear, a soothing and reassuring rhythm. 

"Babe," Jesse said softly. "You are fuckin' infuriating, but let me tell you, I don't want to let you go. You can be the biggest asshole I've ever met - and that's a high bar - but then you're just the most genuine person, too. I don't get you at all."

"Sometimes, I don't believe I understand myself," Hanzo said honestly. 

Jesse's arms loosened. Assuming that the moment was over, Hanzo drew back and lifted his head, but in the next moment Jesse's lips pressed against his own.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse threw all caution to the wind as he set out to do exactly what he wanted to do. Right now, that meant kissing Hanzo breathless, while he removed that soft flannel shirt with quick movements of his clumsy fingers. Hanzo seemed startled at first, as he always did, but he rallied swiftly and began to undo Jesse's shirt in turn. 

It was always like that, Jesse realized. Like Hanzo didn't comprehend that Jesse ached to touch him every goddamn minute. Like he was convinced each time they were together was the last fucking time, and then the next time came as a surprise.

Jesse tried not to think about the fact that in this case, it probably _was_ the last time. Any other possibility was far too complicated to consider right now. Not when Jesse was doing his level best to taste every delicious part of Hanzo from the inside out, and his thigh was pressing urgently between Hanzo's legs, feeling the hot bar of his erection already very much evident.

There was no talking between them. Jesse didn't dare to say anything, for fear even a single word out of his mouth would turn into a continuation of the uncomfortable conversations that had somehow gotten them to this point anyway. Right now, all he wanted to do was feel. No more thinking. Not just now.

In short order, both of them had tossed aside their clothes, kicked off their shoes, and even dropped their weapons carelessly onto the floor of the hotel room. Jesse pressed Hanzo back a couple of steps, until he could lay the other man down onto the bed.

"Stay there," Jesse said, the only words he trusted himself to say right now.

Hanzo's eyes widened, but he nodded, a jerky, almost frightened movement, as if he was worried that Jesse might not come back.

Jesse bent and reassured him with a kiss, and Hanzo looked slightly less nervous when Jesse straightened up again. Jesse walked into the bathroom and hunted through the options, grabbing a small vial of body lotion that looked to belong to Hanzo. He opened the cap and smelled it as he walked back out. Did Hanzo really buy women's lotion? It smelled of cherry blossoms.

Of course it did.

He smiled when he saw Hanzo lying just where he'd been put, propped up on his elbows and looking nervously in his direction.

Nude and erect, with the ink on his arm glowing like jewels, he looked more like a painting than a real man. It took Jesse's breath away, and he felt his body stir, his erection swelling even more at the sight.

"Goddamn gorgeous," Jesse said, crossing the room to him. "I wish you could see the picture you make. Like somethin' that should be in a museum."

Hanzo looked more baffled than flattered, and a slow flush rose on his cheeks. "I wouldn't have expected you to be so poetic," he admitted. 

Jesse climbed into the bed, kneeling next to Hanzo with the bottle clutched in his palm. He wasn't offended by Hanzo's words, mostly because he didn't think Hanzo meant it to be as insulting as it sort of came off being. "Well, I'm more of a lover than a scholar," he said. "I went to the school of hard knocks, after I dropped outta high school, that is."

Hanzo's eyes widened, then he shook his head. "Let us not discuss that right now." He lifted a hand tentatively, resting it on Jesse's cheek. "I would much rather discuss what you are going to do with whatever it is that you have stolen from my bathroom."

"Borrowed," Jesse said, affecting a hurt tone. He held up the bottle. "I'll be givin' it back to you in a moment, in fact, though a little emptier." He paused. "At least, if you're up for it. If you'd prefer it the other way, I'm more than happy to guide you through it from the bottom instead."

Hanzo's face went through a rather amazing series of expressions. First, he looked shocked and nervous again, then startled in a completely different way, and then his cheeks went completely red. "I appreciate that you'd be willing to reverse our positions, but I am comfortable moving forward in the way you suggest."

The thought process was rather obvious, and Jesse tried to suppress his own feelings of amusement. He truly didn't care if he was penetrated or went the other way, and he figured from the look on Hanzo's face that he had been surprised by Jesse's willingness to take it up the ass.

Whether Hanzo had made his decision out of a misplaced desire to please Jesse by giving him what he _thought_ Jesse really wanted, or because he truly wanted to bottom, Jesse wasn't going to question it right now. His willingness seemed genuine, and Jesse planned on making sure he didn't regret the choice one bit.

Jesse bent and kissed Hanzo again, wrapping his free hand - the prosthetic one in this case - around Hanzo's cock. They kissed for a while, drawing it out, warm and sweet. Their tongues tangled, though this was no battle for supremacy. Hanzo's initial eagerness slowly calmed as he relaxed, apparently realizing that he didn't need to rush. 

Jesse had no desire to hurry things along. He was no less hungry for Hanzo than he had ever been, but he intended this to last as long as possible - after all, no matter what Jesse ultimately decided that he wanted, this could be their last time together.

"That's it," he whispered into Hanzo's ear, alternating little kisses along his skin with lovebites that left tiny red marks. "Relax, babe. I've got you. All you've got to do is trust me."

"I do," Hanzo said. "I do trust you, Jesse."

It sounded like a revelation. It probably was.

Jesse could relate to that feeling he could hear in Hanzo's voice. That tone that spoke of a lifetime of looking out for oneself, trusting rarely, and often feeling like that trust had been misplaced when it was given.

But Hanzo didn't even have people to fall back on. Jesse had comrades who had earned and still retained his trust, even now. But so far as Jesse could tell, Hanzo was completely alone in the world.

All of it only reinforced Jesse's desire to take care of Hanzo as well as he possibly could.

He smiled and dropped a kiss on Hanzo's lips, then deepened the contact, flirting with Hanzo's tongue and doing his best to keep him distracted while he opened the bottle of lotion and coated his fingers with the slick substance. He dropped the bottle onto the bed and then shifted closer to Hanzo, slipping an arm under Hanzo's leg and drawing his knee towards his chest. Hanzo made a soft, confused sound, which turned into a whimper as Jesse's fingers circled his entrance.

"Relax, babe," Jesse murmured against Hanzo's lips. "You can pull the plug any time, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to make it feel like Christmas mornin' every second. You just gotta do your part."

"What do you need me to do?" Hanzo asked, going rigid instead. He sounded like a fresh recruit looking for orders.

Jesse chuckled softly and kissed him again. " _Relax_ , if you know how. Use some of that meditation stuff. I know you know how to do that."

Hanzo blinked at him, then closed his eyes. His breathing slowed and became more regular, drawing in and out rhythmically. For a moment, Jesse wondered if this was a bad idea, but Hanzo's body was relaxing under his hands, and that was a good sign at least. Experimentally, Jesse pushed a single finger into Hanzo's body.

Hanzo drew in another breath, more sharply and shuddering, but his body remained loose. Jesse worked the finger in and out, watching Hanzo's face for any sign of discomfort. Though Hanzo's expression was locked in a frown, as if he were concentrating fiercely, there was no sign of distress and all of the nervousness seemed to have fled.

"You still with me, darlin'?" Jesse asked. He didn't want Hanzo to go away, to avoid feeling the sensations. He wanted Hanzo to feel every little thing.

Hanzo opened his eyes, and his breathing quickly sped up. "You're... very distracting," he griped. 

Jesse grinned and twisted his finger around. Hanzo gasped and his eyes rolled back in his head. "That's the idea," Jesse said. "You ready for more?"

Hanzo nodded, and this time instead of looking worried, his expression was eager. Jesse took that as more than enough invitation, and began to work a second finger into Hanzo's body. 

From there, it got easier rather than harder. Hanzo seemed to have the idea now, and his body relaxed under Jesse's ministrations, while Hanzo's breathing became laboured and soft sounds of pleasure issued from his throat. Hanzo writhed on the bed, deliciously responsive, as Jesse played his body like a fine instrument. Soon, Jesse had three fingers inside Hanzo, while he stroked him with his prosthetic hand, and he could scarcely stand to wait another moment. 

"Goddamn," Jesse murmured between kisses, drawing his fingers from Hanzo's body. "I want you, babe. I want you wrapped all round me."

"Do it," Hanzo commanded - though it sounded like more of a plea than anything else, and was followed up by, "Please, Jesse."

"How could I say no?" Jesse purred. He shifted, pressing his body between Hanzo's legs and pushing his knees up towards his chest, opening him like a flower. He pushed inside, slowly at first, while Hanzo twisted restlessly under his weight. 

Still, Hanzo had the knack now - and he was a quick study, but damn - and Jesse was soon seated deeply in his body. They kissed for long moments, as Hanzo adjusted to the penetration, then Jesse began to thrust into him. 

Hanzo clutched at Jesse's shoulders, gasping his name like a prayer. Sweat stood out on both of their bodies as they moved together and apart rhythmically. Even their breathing seemed to be in tune, as the sensations spiralled up and up until something broke inside them and ecstacy cascaded down upon both of them in a torrent.

Jesse cried out as his orgasm hit, throwing his head back for a moment with the intensity of it. He heard Hanzo calling his name again, this time high and frantic and thick with some kind of intense emotion. Hanzo shuddered under Jesse's weight, his fingers tightening almost painfully as his fingers dug into Jesse's skin. 

Then he relaxed, gasping, and Jesse dropped down to cover him. He planted soft kisses on Hanzo's lips and cheeks and neck, kissing him over and over between his gasping breaths, as he murmured reassurances. "Goddamn, baby, you're divine. Where've you been all my life? I don't wanna let you go, darlin'."

Hanzo shuddered and buried his face against Jesse's neck, murmuring something indistinct and desperate. 

"I know, I know darlin'," Jesse whispered, because he did know, even if he hadn't understood the words. 

They both lapsed into a comfortable drowsing stupor. Jesse found himself half-draped over the other man, his head pillowed on Hanzo's shoulder and one leg thrown over him. Hanzo didn't move a muscle after getting comfortable, and at first when Jesse became aware of it, he thought Hanzo was asleep.

When he raised his head, though, Hanzo's eyes were open and sharp.

"Hey there," Jesse said lazily. "How're you feelin'?"

Hanzo's expression turned inwards, as if he were doing an inventory. "Well," he decided. 

"Glad to hear it." 

Jesse lowered his head and they settled in together.

"So... how come you ain't running a yakuza family?" Jesse asked with curiosity.

Hanzo grimaced, and tucked himself more closely against Jesse. "After... after what happened between Genji and I, I realized how many things had led me to fall so far, and that one of those things was my family. They were once an honourable clan, but now are nothing but murderers and thieves. I decided that I did not wish to be associated with them, and have done much to wipe away that stain on the world over the last ten years."

Jesse's jaw dropped. That was not what he'd expected Hanzo to say.

"So what you're sayin' is you've been going after the Shimada on your own all these years?"

"Correct. I take jobs like this one to fund my work, but dealing with the Shimada is my duty," Hanzo said. "Though I can never fully rehabilitate my own honour, I can at least do this much. I was to be kumicho, so their crimes are my responsibility."

"Huh." That was certainly something to chew on, but Jesse didn't have much time to think through that before Hanzo distracted him. 

"Tell me about yourself, Jesse," Hanzo said softly. "You know most of the significant things that have happened in my life, yet I know almost nothing about you except that you're a member of Overwatch."

That was a fair question, even if Jesse hadn't expected it. Hanzo seemed to think that they'd never see each other again after this, and it was nice he was finally taking an interest. 

Jesse considered how to reply for a few moments, then gave a shrug. "I grew up dirt poor, father gone before I could remember, and my momma got sick when I was still pretty young. I started workin' with the local gang, learned to shoot, and did some stuff I ain't proud of," he said softly. "Eventually formed a gang of my own with some friends, and got myself in some major trouble. That probably would've been the end of me, but--"

He paused. He hadn't told anyone this story before. Everyone in Overwatch pretty much knew, and since the fall of Overwatch, he hadn't really talked to too many people about much of anything. Once, his next words would have been delivered with pride and gratitude, but now the memory was painful and coated his throat with a sour flavour.

He drew a breath, but his voice was still unsteady when it came out. "But a man from Overwatch, named Gabriel Reyes, he came to me and offered me a way out. I took it, and I was recruited to Blackwatch. Genji and I were in the same unit." 

He swallowed. "Turns out that Reyes wasn't the man I thought he was. He betrayed us, brought Overwatch down and has been tryin' to kill as many of us as he can. He... he works for Talon now. When Overwatch was disbanded, I just drifted for a few years. I've got a hell of a price on my head, in fact, and I've been tryin' to keep my head down. Now, though, we've been called back together, and I agreed to go."

"You were betrayed by your brother as well," Hanzo said softly.

"Yeah. Guess I was."

Night had fallen at some point, and the room was dark. Through the open curtains, Jesse could see a clear, cloudless sky and a speckling of stars, partially blotted out by a heavy full moon.

The clock on the side table glowed, giving some illumination, and Jesse finally gave in to the urge to look at the time. They had an hour before rendezvous.

It was now or never.

"Hey darlin'," Jesse murmured. "I gotta ask you something. And I'm afraid it's not... not gonna be an easy question."

As he feared he would, Hanzo tensed, though Jesse thought perhaps he wasn't quite as upset as he would have been earlier. "Please, ask your question," Hanzo said. "Whatever you wish to know, I will do my best to answer honestly."

"I'm glad," Jesse said. "Because I gotta ask you - what exactly happened with you and Genji?"


	10. Chapter 10

It was the question Hanzo least wanted Jesse to ask, but also the one he was most likely to inflict upon him. 

While Hanzo might have reacted defensively or with anger before, or simply stonewalled and avoided the question, the thought of doing so now was... unpalatable. After Jesse had endured so much from Hanzo, and after Hanzo had put his trust in Jesse and not been disappointed, Hanzo could not be a coward now.

So it was with a weary sort of manner that he spoke.

"Genji and I... rarely got along," Hanzo said softly. "He never fit in within our family, and ran wild, particularly after our mother passed away. I thought at the time that he resented me, but that alone would not have resulted in the same outcome. For my part, I believed him to be a lazy layabout, and our father did nothing to curb his behaviour or instill discipline." He paused. "It doesn't matter why - perhaps I just don't know why he acted the way he did. I was too foolish and prideful to ask, and I doubt he would have answered me truthfully anyway."

He drew a breath and let it out, appreciating that Jesse merely lay against him, caressing his side lightly with one hand, and listened without apparent judgment. "The result is, Genji and I fought, constantly. We would argue about everything, and I am sure that he intentionally antagonized me at every turn, while I thought myself to be in the right. One day, shortly after our father's death, when I was soon to be confirmed as kumicho of the Shimada Clan, I decided that I had had enough. I would bring Genji into line, cause him to take his place by my side either through persuasion or by force if necessary, or I would expel him from the clan entirely."

He swallowed. "Instead, we fought more fiercely than ever. He wanted nothing to do with what I had to say, refused to see reason - as I viewed it at the time - and the argument escalated into a full-on battle. I..." He paused, the words sticking in his throat. Even now, voicing what he had done was nearly unbearable. Shame rose up and strangled him, but Hanzo gritted his teeth and forced himself to say it.

He had no right to flee from this. He had no right to take refuge in Jesse's good will, knowing that if Jesse knew the entire truth, he would understand what a despicable person Hanzo was.

"I turned the dragons upon my brother," he whispered. "With our father's blade, I cut him down, mutilated his body, and then threw him into the sea."

"Jesus, Hanzo," Jesse murmured.

Hanzo closed his eyes. "I believed him dead, all these years, until two weeks ago when I visited Hanamura to honour the anniversary of his death, and he met me there. I did not even recognize the wreck I had made of my brother, and yet he told me that he forgave me."

He raised his head, looking at Jesse almost pleadingly. "But what I have done - you must see, Jesse, that what I have done cannot be forgivable. I do not know why he would say these things, nor why he did not give me the release of death as we stood there in the very room where I murdered him. But I do not doubt that you, _you_ deserve better than a monster with no honour, such as myself."

He had no words left. The strain of telling the story for the very first time was overwhelming. His stomach churned and his throat burned with bile, but he had done it. Now, he had only to wait for Jesse's reaction. Jesse's hand was no longer moving against his skin. It had stilled somewhere along the line, and Hanzo anticipated that Jesse would move away, close off at least, even if he didn't take Hanzo to task.

The silence drew out interminably, before Jesse finally spoke. "Darlin', I don't know why Genji decided to forgive you. The Genji I knew back in Overwatch talked a lot about revenge, and seemed to hate you a whole lot. I'm guessin' that he's grown up a bit since then, and maybe he's realized that there's somethin' to value in you. Seems to me that the next step is for you to do the same."

Hanzo parsed that for a few seconds before opening his eyes and looking at Jesse in confusion. "You don't...hate me?"

Jesse cracked a wry smile. "No, darlin', I don't hate you. Far from it. I think you made a terrible mistake, the kinda mistake that changes the course of a person's life. But I'm willin' to bet that you'd never make that mistake again."

"How can you say that?" Hanzo protested, his throat hoarse from a kaleidoscope of emotions that were too raw to identify. "I have done nothing but frustrate you, lie to you, and you also know that I tried to murder my own brother. How can you show me any kind of consideration or understanding?"

"Yeah, you did all those things," Jesse acknowledged with a shrug of one shoulder. "But you've also showed me a man who holds honour above his own life, who saved _my_ life more than once when he could've done a lot less, and who's got a genuine heart he can't quite seem to hide, even though he does his level best to. That kind of person doesn't jive with the image of an untrustworthy monster."

Hanzo flushed, feeling a mixture of confusion and a strange fluttery feeling in his breast. Why should it matter so much if Jesse thought he had worth? Yet it did. It was undeniable that hearing those words from Jesse meant a great deal to him. 

"You are insane," he murmured, turning his face away. 

"Maybe so." Jesse said, and kissed him on the cheek, grinning like a crushing schoolboy. Hanzo had to admit - at least to himself - that if he relaxed his control even one iota, he would have a similar expression on his own face.

Jesse drew back and got to his feet. Hanzo almost grabbed for him, but restrained himself ruthlessly. The moment was over, and whatever feelings had been exchanged, it meant little in the long run. So what if Jesse didn't hate him? That didn't mean that this interlude, this encounter between them was any more than that. 

However much Hanzo might wish that things were different, they were not. And even if they were, Hanzo would not beg, and would not expect more than Jesse was willing to give. 

"Get dressed," Jesse said. "It's almost time to go."

That, at least, explained why he pulled away. Reassured, Hanzo got up and reached for his own clothing as well, trying not to give in to the intense urge to sneak looks at Jesse's backside while the latter pulled on his jeans. 

He failed miserably, and enjoyed the view very much.

By the time he was tying his belt around his waist, Hanzo heard the whine of engines in the distance. He looked out the window and saw the shape of a dropship angling itself towards the hotel. "Is that... Overwatch?" Hanzo asked.

"Some of it," Jesse said, putting his hat on and peering out the window. He stepped over to the balcony door and opened it wide. A chill breeze blew into the room and buffetted them both, nearly snatching Jesse's hat from his head. Even as Hanzo looked, a door opened in the dropship side, a yellow rectangle of light appearing in the otherwise well-disguised ship. A diminutive figure waved enthusiastically from the ship, and a ladder unfurled from inside.

The ship slowly banked and then moved closer, angling to bring the ladder close to the balcony railing. Jesse reached out and caught it as it swung, and secured a hook to the railing, keeping it in place. 

"Wait!" Hanzo exclaimed as Jesse put his foot onto the railing. Was he simply going to leave, just like that? 

Without even saying goodbye?

Jesse looked back at him inquiringly, then his eyes widened. He released the ladder and re-entered the hotel room. "Darlin', what are you waiting for? We've gotta go."

"We?" Hanzo echoed, confused. 

"Yeah!" Jesse caught Hanzo by the wrist and brought it up, kissing him on the back of the hand. "Goddamn, darlin', how thick is your skull? Do I have to spell it out for you? Genji said he wanted you to come to him, and I want you to stay with me - let's _go_."

There was a rushing, a frantic beating in Hanzo's ears. His heart was racing so quickly that he feared it would burst. He could scarcely hear Jesse's words over the thunder. "No!" he said, and ripped his hand out of Jesse's grasp. "No, I cannot! I can't just-- I can't just _go_ with you." 

"Why not?" Jesse asked. His brown eyes were tinged with hurt. "Hanzo, you don't have to go back to that life. You can have something better. Just give it a chance."

"No!" Hanzo shouted, his fingers clenching into fists. He didn't deserve this. Why didn't Jesse see that? "You cannot just romance me and expect that everything will be all right. It doesn't work like that."

"It could--"

Jesse was waiting too long. Hanzo couldn’t understand why he was hesitating, but what he _did_ know, was that he had to do what was necessary to ensure Jesse’s safety. 

"Go! Begone! Leave me alone!" Hanzo snapped. He found himself gripping Stormbow, as if on the edge of bringing the bow around between them. He no longer carried a blade, but even so, Jesse had to see the threat in the gesture. "You presume too much, Jesse McCree. We are finished here," he snarled.

Jesse stared at him for a long moment. Hanzo raised his chin defiantly. At any moment, Jesse would surrender, and that would be for the best for him, for Genji, for anyone Jesse cared for. 

He should have anticipated what Jesse did next.

Instead of turning away, Jesse closed the distance, ignoring the implicit threat of Stormbow, and Hanzo's determination as if it were of no more force than the wind buffeting him through the open door. He wrapped his arms around Hanzo, and tucked his head against Hanzo's neck. 

Hanzo relaxed. A goodbye hug. Of course. 

He wrapped his arms around Jesse in return, his throat closing and his chest tight. 

"I don't want to leave you here alone, baby," Jesse said. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. Just come with me. Whatever comes, we'll deal with it together."

The gentle words, delivered in such a disarming fashion, cut through all of Hanzo's resistance like a knife through a sleeve. "Jesse... I--"

"I know, babe. I know what you're gonna say, but please. Trust me."

_Trust me._

Jesse had yet to betray Hanzo's trust, that was undeniable. 

"But how can you trust me?" Hanzo pleaded. "What if something happens? Genji--"

"Genji'll be fine," Jesse said soothingly.

Hanzo couldn't think of anything to say. Going to Overwatch was a dismal idea for a thousand reasons, but somehow Jesse couldn't see it. Jesse was unwilling to be persuaded. Hanzo just couldn't argue with him any longer, not with the dropship waiting outside and Talon surely still hunting for him. Jesse had to go now.

There would be another opportunity for Hanzo to slip away and save them all the trouble that Hanzo's presence would cause. To delay any further now would only risk Jesse's safety.

So when Jesse tugged him towards the balcony, Hanzo put one foot in front of the other and followed. The smile Jesse rewarded him with for that was almost worth the feeling of utter foreboding and hopelessness in his heart. 

A storm was clearly gathering, yet Hanzo still couldn't see any sign of clouds as they stepped outside and Jesse took hold of the ladder. Hanzo held it steady as Jesse began to climb. After he had climbed high enough, Hanzo put his foot on the ladder, climbed up a few rungs and reached down a foot to unlatch the ladder from the balcony.

It was at that moment that a missile came out of nowhere and struck the dropship.


	11. Chapter 11

The dropship rocked to one side as the missile struck it. Jesse yelled in surprise and ducked his head reflexively as the explosion lit up the sky above him, glad that his hat stayed on as the wind buffeted him and the ladder swung wildly.

Too wildly. As the dropship steadied, now bearing a black mark on its hull but otherwise none the worse for wear, Jesse risked a look down and saw that the ladder had torn in half. Several feet dangled beneath him, and there was no sign of Hanzo.

 _Oh god, Hanzo!_ Jesse peered desperately and spotted the ninja, dangling from the other end of the ladder, which was thankfully still hooked to the balcony. Even as Jesse looked, Hanzo reached the balcony again and waved them off in a clear signal - go.

He wasn't going to come with them, after all.

Tracer appeared above Jesse, popping into existence. "Hey cowboy! You all right?"

"I'm fine! Fly the ship!" Jesse yelled. He firmed his grip on the ladder and peered around. "Where did that come from?"

"There's a Talon stealth helicopter out there somewhere," Tracer said. "Can't get it on the instruments, but it's out there."

That had to be the reason for the wind on such a cloudless night. The rotors of the helicopter were stirring things up, adding to the draft caused by the dropship itself. Jesse spared a moment to curse himself for not realizing it sooner.

"Come on up, Jesse," Tracer called. "I've left Athena to pilot, but she can't do much against these missiles but try to dodge them." She bent down and hauled on the ladder, but his weight was far too much for the slender woman. "We've got to get outta here."

"You're right," he said. "But we've left someone behind. You've got to--" He paused, hearing the whistle of another missile coming their way. This time, the ship attempted an evasive manoeuvre, and the missile sailed past harmlessly, exploding high in the sky like the world's biggest firework. At least they weren't heat seeking.

The missile had come from a different direction, though. The 'copter was flying around, trying to keep them from figuring out where it was.

"You've got to get closer to the hotel!"

Tracer's eyes widened behind her goggles. "Are you nuts? How's he gonna get up here? Unless he can fly?"

"Let me worry about that," Jesse said. "Just get me there."

She frowned at him, then disappeared, flashing away. The dropship began to lose altitude, moving closer to the hotel. Jesse saw Hanzo standing on the balcony, watching them. When the dropship started to come closer, he frowned in confusion.

When Jesse made a flying leap off the ladder towards the balcony, Hanzo's eyes widened with shock, and Jesse was sure he heard him yell something in Japanese. He was betting it was a swear word.

 

~ ~ ~

When the missile hit the dropship, Hanzo's world turned upside-down for several moments, and his shoulder crashed painfully into the side of the building. Once he'd gotten his bearings, though, he was easily able to scale what was left of the ladder back onto the safety of the balcony.

He straightened up and turned around, and to his immense relief he saw that the ship seemed largely unharmed - and even better, that Jesse had not fallen. He still clung to the ladder just below the ship, and would be able to make the remainder of the climb. He was safe, and Hanzo was stuck.

There was another level of relief to this. Now, Jesse would have to go without Hanzo, and they would all be spared the inevitable failure that lurked in their future. Whether it would be because of Hanzo's temper, or because they would eventually tire of one another, Hanzo knew that their relationship would one day end in pain. Now, they would always remember what they had shared with fondness, never having to experience the inevitable bitter end.

Then the next thing Hanzo saw, was Jesse leaping into the air, heading straight towards him in a suicidal move. Again.

Jesse hit the balcony floor and rolled, thankfully managing to go right through the doorway rather than crashing into something immediately. He got to his feet and dusted himself off, then strode towards Hanzo. "We've got to--"

"You fool!" Hanzo snarled, utterly incensed. "Why would you come back here? You could have killed yourself! Now when that Talon helicopter turns its missiles towards us, we _will_ both die!"

"'Thanks for coming back for me, Jesse. That was real sweet of you, Jesse'," Jesse said, catching Hanzo by the hand.

Jesse kissed him. Hanzo's knees went weak. The fireworks of missiles exploding in the sky were less powerful than the ones going on in Hanzo’s mind.

He was no less angry when the kiss finished. If anything, he was quite a bit more out of sorts at his own reactions.

"You must go, Jesse," Hanzo said, but could no longer summon as much heat. He glanced back at the balcony railing, realizing what Jesse had clearly already known. "But you cannot get to the dropship without my help."

"Tell me something, Hanzo," Jesse said, drawing Hanzo's attention reluctantly back to him. "You agreed to come, but you were still thinkin' that this whole thing is temporary, weren't you? Were you gonna slip away sometime, or just make everything unbearable until we kicked you out?"

Hanzo reddened, hating himself for it. "I..." He dropped his gaze, shame welling up inside him. "Jesse, I am not someone that anyone should want around them."

"Let me be the judge of that," Jesse said.

"We have had less than a day to get to know one another," Hanzo protested. "You cannot know how this will turn out. There may be a million things about me that you do not like - you must understand, Jesse. You may be charming, and handsome, but I am not that way. I am not social. I have a temper. I loathe the company of others. Most people I have ever met do not like me."

Why was Jesse only smiling so fondly at him with every word that he said.

"Baby," Jesse said gently. " _Trust me_. Maybe it won't last forever, but are you really tellin' me that you wouldn't like to have more than just today?"

Hanzo's throat closed. Every fibre of his being wanted to say yes, wanted to take that risk.

He surrendered.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Yes, I do."

Jesse beamed. "Great! Now, how're we getting back?"

He gestured towards the balcony. The dropship was performing more evasive manoevres, but it was clear to Hanzo that the weapon ports the ship sported were either empty or decorative. It was now possible to see the helicopter, the same evil black vessel that they had seen before. A barrage of missiles flew towards the dropship, some of them finding their marks, but most of them exploding harmlessly in the air.

That wouldn't last forever, though. Sooner or later, the helicopter would hit something vital.

Hanzo walked outside and readied Stormbow, selecting an arrow. "I have never tested a grapple arrow on two people," he said. "It worked earlier today when you fell from the balcony, but these are far worse conditions. It may not hold." Hanzo looked at Jesse seriously. "My hand, also, is not in the best condition." He flexed it. The knife wound that he had suffered earlier still pained him, though it didn't seem to have cut any tendons.

Jesse had his arm around Hanzo's waist, and his smile didn't waver. "I trust you, darlin'. Get us up there. I know you can do it."

Hanzo bowed his head, acknowledging the trust that Jesse was offering him, then he drew back the bow.

He waited for the latest barrage of missiles to spend itself and for the dropship's flight pattern to level out, then he let fly. The arrow arced through the air and into the dropship. Hanzo tugged on the line, pulling as hard as he could, but whatever it had snagged upon seemed solid.

"Go first, but I will need both hands to climb," Hanzo warned Jesse. "You must not fall."

"Well you'd better not fall, neither," Jesse said, then he took hold of the line.

This was not a ladder, just a slender line with no footholds, but Jesse managed to shimmy up it with Hanzo steadying it far better than he would have expected. When Jesse was ten feet out from him, Hanzo took hold of the line himself and leaped from the balcony.

The line swung free over empty space. The next missile was launched, and the dropship dodged, and the line swung dizzyingly. Hanzo climbed grimly, seeing nothing but flashes and the bottoms of Jesse's boots above him.

There was no point in looking for his death. Either they would reach the ship, or it would come whether he saw it coming or not.

Finally, after an interminable time, Hanzo saw the glow of the lights ahead of him. Jesse pulled himself up into the ship and turned around, bending down to offer Hanzo his hand, but then his gaze snapped upwards and his expression creased into a look of horror.

Hanzo finally risked a look. The helicopter was bearing down upon them, the yawning ports of the missile launchers like staring eyes on either side of the blunt nose of the black vehicle.

Talon was planning on launching their next barrage right into the dropship. Such an attack would surely kill them all, and the wide bulk of the ship would be hard pressed to avoid it.

Hanzo stopped climbing. He wrapped the line around his legs, steadying himself so that he wouldn't slide down when he was no longer holding so tightly with his hands, and he pulled Stormbow off of his shoulder.

"Hanzo, climb up!" Jesse yelled, as if reaching the dropship would save him. He ignored the call.

He ignored everything but the enemy before him.

Hanzo drew an arrow, and called upon the dragons. " _Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!_ "

The twin blue dragons flew as the arrow flew, twining around one another, each one as large as the helicopter itself.

The pilot clearly recognized the danger, but too late. The helicopter tried a nose dive, but the dragons only caught the vehicle topside anyway. The force of the attack smashed the helicopter regardless, thrusting it forward ahead of the wave even as the vehicle broke up into smaller and smaller pieces. Hanzo heard screaming as the unfortunate men and women inside were either incinerated by the blast, or fell to their deaths.

He shouldered Stormbow and climbed the rest of the way up.

Jesse was still staring at the wreck of the helicopter as it plummetted towards the street. "Goddamn," he whispered.

"Now, you understand," Hanzo said heavily. He had turned that force on Genji, once. Now Jesse would truly understand why Genji's body had been destroyed the way it had, and the danger that Hanzo presented.

"Yeah, I do," Jesse said, and slipped an arm around Hanzo, holding him close. "Thanks for savin' my life _again_ ," he said. "Sooner or later, I promise I'll return the favour."

Hanzo shook his head and lowered it to Jesse's shoulder. "I think," he said softly. "You have already saved my life."

If even this display couldn't shake Jesse's faith in him, perhaps nothing would.

Perhaps... that was a good thing. Perhaps, there was hope for Hanzo, after all.


End file.
